I stand infront of the mirror,
Is that really me?
Am I realy that hideous?
I realy wonder what people see in me.
I walk back and forth,
My eyes tracing up and down,
It makes me want to throw up at the sight.
Does he loves me, he realy does.
But i cant see why?
I balanço my wrist at the mirror,
I watch the tiny pieces of glass floating down the ground,
The reflection is long gone.
The horrors still fixed in my mind.
Those horroible baby blue eyes staring back at me,
The anger rises, I can see them still,
Still shining, glisting through the shreds of glass.
On the floor.
It kill me to see.
My eyes glisten with tears.
The imperfections that I will never be able to live with.
He loves my imperfections, he told me.
No bodys perfect.
And I believed him.
I still stare at the broken glass,
I wonder why?
This cracked, distored image in the reflection
It is me?
It's not what I thought it was.
Now I see beauty.
As I've never seen before,
I guess I understand now.
I shouldn't believe someones twisted lies,
But I should believe in this imperfect figure that stands before me.
Me, who else?
Look past the imperfections, and maybe I'll see beauty like everyone else....
Is that really me?
Am I realy that hideous?
I realy wonder what people see in me.
I walk back and forth,
My eyes tracing up and down,
It makes me want to throw up at the sight.
Does he loves me, he realy does.
But i cant see why?
I balanço my wrist at the mirror,
I watch the tiny pieces of glass floating down the ground,
The reflection is long gone.
The horrors still fixed in my mind.
Those horroible baby blue eyes staring back at me,
The anger rises, I can see them still,
Still shining, glisting through the shreds of glass.
On the floor.
It kill me to see.
My eyes glisten with tears.
The imperfections that I will never be able to live with.
He loves my imperfections, he told me.
No bodys perfect.
And I believed him.
I still stare at the broken glass,
I wonder why?
This cracked, distored image in the reflection
It is me?
It's not what I thought it was.
Now I see beauty.
As I've never seen before,
I guess I understand now.
I shouldn't believe someones twisted lies,
But I should believe in this imperfect figure that stands before me.
Me, who else?
Look past the imperfections, and maybe I'll see beauty like everyone else....
I was raised in a strictly Christian family, so I know that amor is a thing that happens when you get married. And no not like, make love, to be in love.
It irritates me that my best friend always says she loves her boyfriend, because I personally think that amor is for married couples. Also, amor is a very serious topic. My ex-boyfriend and I discussed this at length when we were going out. I thought that I only liked him, he got mad and said he loved me, but I always knew that he couldn't; I mean, he had known me for two weeks. Do you think we throw around the word "love" too much?
Anyways, I'm here to ask you a few questions.
One; do you believe in love, at such a young age?
Two; could he have really loved me if had met me on dia 7 of the 14 days we saw each other?
Three; Do you think that our society today throws the word "love" around too much?
It irritates me that my best friend always says she loves her boyfriend, because I personally think that amor is for married couples. Also, amor is a very serious topic. My ex-boyfriend and I discussed this at length when we were going out. I thought that I only liked him, he got mad and said he loved me, but I always knew that he couldn't; I mean, he had known me for two weeks. Do you think we throw around the word "love" too much?
Anyways, I'm here to ask you a few questions.
One; do you believe in love, at such a young age?
Two; could he have really loved me if had met me on dia 7 of the 14 days we saw each other?
Three; Do you think that our society today throws the word "love" around too much?