You look me up and down and whisper
"you're perfect."
It takes all the strength I have not to roll my eyes.
Tell me how many times you've had me all figured out,
only to then learn you didn't know me at all.

You ask how my day went,
but never wanted to know how many hearts that I've broken (13),
or whether or not I smiled to myself as I heard them snap (usually),
never pausing for a second to glance back

Don't say that I'm beautiful when you've never spared a look at the ugliness inside me.
You tell me I complete you.
But what if I've always been whole on my own?

Will our love still be enchanting and magic once you've discovered I'm the Wicked Witch?

Catching my eye in a crowded room and all you expect of me is mirrored back.
Faking shy, my gaze lowers.
For love has always left me breathless.
But in the suffocating style, at best