I'm sorry I'm not her.
I will never have marble skin you cannot resist touching or deep blue eyes that make you swim in them.
My eyes made you drown and my skin was always too cold for you.
You said I was just a source of stress yet here you are with her.
My armor is cracking with each sad look in my direction and each drink reminds me of you begging me to stop.
I can't enjoy it anymore.
I will never be enough for you and I'm okay with that because you will never be able to handle me.
I am a hurricane of a girl.
She is a mere drizzle, as are you.