all our lives we are told

to despise the pretty people

with faces of honey and bodies like bubblegum

who get everything they want with just a flutter of the eyelashes

and we, the not pretty people, watch as the world withers before their very feet

oh, to be pretty

and destructive 

 

but of course pretty can only exist at the grace of the ugly. pretty is nothing if not a comparison. if pretty people are pretty

what are we?

 

the boy you like says, but i think you’re pretty 

as if that matters

when you really want him to say,

the world would wither in front of you too 

if you only allowed it to