Kayla Garner

I feel the eyes on me.
The pressure of the lies,
The pressure of the 'normal girls',
The pressure of the pretty ones.
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You call me baby,
You call my honey,
But I'm no one's sex bunny.
Either you love me, or you don't.
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I'm sitting, crying.
You don't even care as I lie in my puddle of sadness.
The puddle was caused by you,
The tears streaming down my cheeks, from you as well.
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Your brightness enlightens me.
You dance with the wind,
One move flow into the next.
So graceful, yet so dangerous.
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