This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at UTSA chapter.
I don’t love
being loved
as far as my legs
can walk me
I was drowning
but you were drowning, too
you were drowning in the color of my eyes
I was drowning in the truth behind yours
don’t call me beautiful
don’t call me when the sun goes down
please don’t call me beautiful
because then I’ll know the truth
when my legs burn out
when my eyes begin to fade
when we drown in the same deep sea
when you’re up with the sun
then you can call me anything you’d like