you never fail to make me feel incompetent. like I'm never good enough for you and I never will be. like you expect the world from me and I'm only providing the seas. you shake me you and break me and then walk away expecting me to fix myself up because I live for you.
I live to hear your approval, I live to make sure you love even the broken parts of yourself. because that's all beautiful, it's pulchritude in most basic form. you could be angel that keeps me going or you could be my devil that pelts with hot rocks, scarring me again and again. but you still have me coming back for more because I want to have you in my life in any way then in none at all. you make me cry you make me laugh. you break me only to mend me. how is this not beautiful. because you fix me up. then you unstitch the wounds and rub your own form of salt only to kiss away the pain. this is pulchritude. unfathomable intriguing but still beautiful. because I live for you.
and for some reason. you're always beautiful no matter how much you hurt me. I'd jump to the moon if it would made you smile even a little bit. even when you hurt me again and again and again. even when I've cried oceans and blood for you. even when I'd cut all my broken pieces because of you. you are my beautiful. and I live for you.
- Dina x
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