Maybe I'm not that kind of beautiful dressed in red lipstick and black eyeliner.
I'm not beautiful in the sense of defined cheekbones, full lips, curvy hips and shapely legs.
I'm not beautiful like the sunsets kissing the sky,
the stars outlining evening wishes,
the freshly picked flowers and the softly murmured I love you's
So maybe I'm the kind of girl with pale lips and dull eyes.
But I hope someday, someone kisses the sunsets on my chapped lips and
outlines the stars on my cheekbones.
I hope he waters the flowers beneath my flaws on my skin and
screams I love you's because his love for me is meant not to be kept in secret drawers,
but to be plastered in the sky, on waters and in the wind.
