pain and anguish. i am 14 again, and the world is against me, only me. you leave me curled in balls on alabaster sheets, slinking away with your hands raised. i speak to you in whispers, in the slant of my eyebrows. you see someone different from who i am. i fend for myself while you smile at her.
non-answer. cop out. tell me why you love me.
because i love you...
because i love you...
if i spend my savings on low-cut tops and dance classes. if i go to the gym and play my violin. would you care? would you? or am i young and fragile, have you grown from where i am, do you see me with eyes of wisdom, and my words are the meaningless worries of youth?