I look at you and think, "You were beautiful once." Or at least you could have been beautiful, in some alternative reality where bad things don't happen to good people. I can see you, smiling, laughing, making other people laugh too. That could be you, in my perfect world. You wouldn't have to cry all the time. You wouldn't be so thin. You wouldn't have scars on your arms. I want to go to that time or place, where you're beautiful and you're happy so I can be happy with you.