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Him and Her
Folder:
Prose/Short Stories I always wondered why
he stared at me.
I thought he found me beautiful
though I didn’t see it myself.
Not that I didn’t think
I was pretty,
just not worth more
than a single glance.
But last night he didn’t say
I was beautiful.
He only called me “sexy”.
And when we weren’t doing
sexual things,
he would barely look at me.
It was then that I knew why
he stared at me.
He saw only her in my eyes.
He had to.
Because he didn’t notice
as my eyes turned glassy,
on the verge of tears.
I held back.
The tears, I mean.
I exhibited everything else.
But I really can’t blame
it all on him.
He didn’t make me a sex object
until I asked him to.
