The words leave your lips
day after day
and i thank you
i honestly do.
But do you care about the galaxies
i store inside of this oh so
"****" body?
do you care
about my
hopes
dreams
ambitions
my emotions
inside my "pretty" little head?
because when you decided
to lower me
by counting how many boys
or girls
thought i was pretty
i screamed "stop"
and "you're making me uncomfortable"
you lashed out
and yelled
replying "what"
the word hitting me
straight in my chest
my oh so beautiful collar bones
and my "perfect" cleavage
and cracking something within me
and it took everything in me
not to explode into a million pieces.
Yes they think Im pretty
Yes they want to **** me
Yes i take it as a compliment
but is that * all i'm ******** worth