175. Me..
12:30 p.m. & Tuesday, Oct. 31, 2006
When guys watch me, all they see is: Brown hair. Skinny. Big Boobs. Attractive.
I don't want to seem arrogant or remotely like a snob, but I make a living out of how I look. I know what they're thinking.
Males look, but don't really see.. It's as though there's nothing more to me than the blush of my skin. Nothing further. Nothing deeper. You can't convince them otherwise, even if you wanted to.
I hope he sees more to me than that..
I know in my heart that he does.
You can't help but wonder though. There's nothing that can ever make you sure. For once, I feel like he just sees me.
If he doesn't I hope he lets me down softly..
I want to remember What takes a lifetime to forget
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I am me. Nothing more, nothing less. I write. I don?t write beautiful things. I write about things that happen to me. Things that come from my soul. Deep inside me. This is my life. This is my angst. This is my happiness. This is my joy. This is my sorrow, and my pain. I don?t consider myself a 'poet' in any manner. I consider myself a struggling teen just trying to get by in life. I've only a few things left to hold onto. And writing is one of those...
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