In a museum full of art
I’d still stare at you
But would you do the same?
In a sky full of stars
You still shine the brightest
But what am I to you?
In my mind full of constant worry, fear, and anxiety that you’ll leave me for someone better
To you I am disposable. I am nothing.
Though you tell me you love me
You tell me I’m beautiful
Some days it’s so hard to believe I’ll need you to yell me a million times over
Does my constant need for reassurance become bothersome?
My own faults no longer become small
They’re loud. They make themselves known.
In a hall full of music, your voice is the loveliest sound that I hear.
But does the break in my voice when I’m about to cry still hurt you?
Does it even matter that I am so often
Alone?
In my heart full of love
It is you. You are all that I see.
But do you feel the same?