You’re so pretty from afar. It’s all big picture, dressed up in lights and wrapped with a bow. You can’t see the imperfections, flaws blur into oblivion, and with my poor eyesight you might as well be heaven personified.
You’re so pretty from afar, but take a few steps closer and things get rough around the edges. You come into focus and your flaws become clear, etched in deep like they have always been there. There’s cuts and scrapes and surface wounds, left by others that got too close. They got close and they couldn’t handle what they saw. The closer I get, the more I fear that I will leave my own marks one day.
You’re so pretty from afar, but standing face to face your scars make constellations and your scowl curves like a sickle, a sharp harbinger of doom however innocent it was made to be. You’re not quite symmetrical and not quite urbane, but you are far from ordinary.
You’re so pretty from afar, but where I stand, closer than I ever thought I could get, the glow of your skin burns like the sun and I feel I might combust at a moment’s notice. There’s a hurt in your eyes that hurts in turn, but the pain is comforting, familiar and steady.
You’re so pretty from afar, but you’re absolutely gorgeous up close.
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