\"Why are you crying?\"
He told me as he looked deep into my eyes.
\" I\'ve just never heard someone calling me beautiful before\"
I remember the feeling of walking down the streets of New York and hearing every few minutes and old man calling me out checking me like
\"With an ass like that\"
\" Ohhh if I could grab my hand on her\"
\" I could fu*k you all day long\"
The need to cover up, walking with fear, everytime before leaving the house thinking if I will come back again, so hearing something to pure out of someone that I love means everything for me.
\" You are beautiful, and I will say it to you every day\"
I couldn\'t be any happier, he is perfect in every way, and we are finally a couple, before every time he would say something like \"she is the prettiest woman I\'ve ever seen in my life\" my heart squeaked a little with jealousy because he wasn\'t looking at me.
\"Let\'s go somewhere else, less crowded\" he said, I smiled at him gratefully and quickly shoved the pills back to my bag.
\"Why are you crying\"
He asked me years ago, the first time we kissed, the first time he was overdosed,
Why are you crying? I asked myself standing in front of his grave stone.