Blotted lipstick on an empty envelope
because looks are everything nowadays.
Things are sad, strange, and harsh –
but at least things are beautiful.
They tell me I’m not, they tell me
I’m not who they thought I was.
I tell them I’m not who I thought I was
either but they choose to ignore that.
I’m trying to convince myself that the
world will never take my heart, although
the crimson figure tells me otherwise.

The grimmest of smiles confirms my thoughts,
but still the white-winged figure whispers
in my ear

“you will be loved…
…one day.”