Pretty, Pretty Girl

I see her everyday She's my bestfriend This girl has been through everything with me She has seen every side to me that there is She knows my demons and secrets She knows how and who I am. She is supposed to be like a sister to me and yet Here I am looking in the mirror trying to convince myself that she is Just that. Why have I just noticed how pretty she is? Was she always this pretty? And why do I feel the type of way. Now when I look at her I don't just look, I admire her. See her. Her beauty, her smile, her fair skin which is cover by her very pink blush And the way her hair falls to her face when she laughs. Her small perfect lips. Lips that I shouldn't be staring at. I am a girl. But am not defined by this I knew I liked other girls, but hoped I wouldn't do this fall in love with my best friend. Here I sit and listen to her talk about another boy About how he's coming back after leaving After a paragraph that was a goodbye And after a piece of her had changed from that. I'm devoted to protect her from these things but I know I can't The problem is that I love her This love makes me angry and hateful of this boy My own anger which I cannot control Scares me It scares me to love her Because I know she will get hurt. I am not a good partner I know that at some point I will hurt this pretty, pretty girl Oh what a pretty flower I just had to pick. I hope I don't crush it.