SONNET NO. 3
Opposites attract, or so they say. Smiles and small talk break the surface. But this sky becomes a cloudy grey, When I know I'm getting hurt on purpose.
Hurt like the ocean full of trash. Hurt like the guitar string I cut. Pretty smiles for petty cash, You only like me for my strut.
I have a body I've never loved, But it keeps getting me unwanted attention. With strange emotions I've been talked out of, in a response to all this condescension.
I'm not wasting my time to cry. This entire crush was no surprise.