I smile so sweetly at you
I seem so pretty, so kind
Little do you know
I'm counting down the seconds
Until I disappoint you
And I don’t even know
~~~~~"You are beautiful."
You called me beautiful? What were you looking at?
"You're so nice, Anna!"
Is she really?
I don't know. This is you we're talking about. Are you?
I don't know.
Me? The girl who trips over things in plain sight and claims they moved?
Me? The one who doesn't know how to smile correctly?
Now I know we must be talking about someone else.
I still don't know.
What do you believe? Your reflection in the mirror or the reflection in their eyes?
I don't know.
You know, you don't know a lot of things.
Yes, I know. I'm you, remember?
Of course I remember. I'm you.
Some days, World, I am your girl. Some days, I am no one's. I do not know exactly who that girl is, because she is unfinished. She's a work in progress. I see glimpses of who she is and who she will be, in the eyes of others and in my own. But there is more to her.
There will always be more.
I suppose that is her beauty. It lives in the eye of the beholder. In some eyes, it lives. In others, it has no place. Let there be at least two eyes that remember to see her. That keep a place for her...
And let those same two eyes make room for beauty found in others, everywhere.
So that wherever they look... it will be beautiful.