What makes me beautiful (idea)
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You could've half-become a martyr. A fuel stop, at best. You fucking raisin. What am I saying? You pillow, you cup of yogurt in the wee hours, you sunrise, you Cliffs of Dover, you torch carrying, gutless, drowning, percussive, perfectly cursed 8 ball. And sure, I'm no pedal break but I can make you proud of something, damn you.
Was it a wince? Or a grin? Was it both? When did you learn we weren't dancing, we were fencing? That one of us could lose? But still, your teeth. I'd try to stand, but they make me feel so small. So I fell.
And that's what made me finally remember. I'm beautiful for the things I can notice. Because beauty is as simple and as strong as a reflection, right? It's contagious, right? Choose one. Because I can only drop one shoe, babe.
Beauty is not a blessing in disguise, or a blessing, or a disguise. You can't give it, or take it, or even lose it really, you can only forget about it. The three worst things you can possibly give a person are an idea, a label, and an addiction. You are all three of those things. And as well as that, you are beautiful. But you haven't given yourself to me at all.
But also waiting?
but the biggest secret of all is....
I don't CARE if you're asleep right now. I don't CARE if you can share this sky here, or that star there, or some black moon night with me.