Self love

I know he makes you feel alive. Like all the stars in the galaxies were made for you. The constellations that make up the sky make up his eyes; dim but bright as ever, mesmerizing, angelic. That's why you got lost in them
- oh god, why didn't you love yourself first

I know he makes you feel beautiful, comparing you to pieces of art neither of you have encountered. Telling you how beautiful your brown skin glistens in the sun. How he loves playing with your thick curls that lay upon your head
- oh god, why didn't you love yourself first

I know how adores the little aspects they make you. Your cat brown eyes that he loved gazing at, your pointy nose that you gawked at in the mirror at age 10. Your big, full, pinks lips. The thing he loved sucking. Your curves, the one thing he couldn't stop craving.
- oh god, why didn't you love yourself first

I know how he used you, manipulated you, and left you. The conversation went from "god, I'm so in love with you" to "can you show me a bit more?" He killed you with with his harsh words but brought you back with his warm tongue. It's love right? He loves me. He loves the way my body aligns perfectly with his, the way I bite my lip in pleasure, the late night calls. He lusts after me.
-oh god, why didn't you love yourself first