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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.
Copyright ©
Ana Grace
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