Your looks are pleasing to my eyes, I’d like to say.
I can go on forever, about what I think you mean to me and more.
But you are far, far away from my hands and touch, far for me to feel you.
Behind those eyes of yours, there is something that isn’t right.
It’s off; it’s strange, it’s wrong.
You aren’t right inside. You’re not pretty at all really.
In fact, I think I’m afraid of you.
I’m afraid of what makes you who you are.
I’m afraid to know what you’re capable of.
You’re pleasing to the eyes, but you’re not so great inside.
Inside, you burn with malice and insincerity.
Vanity brands you like a product that only sells to the rich and famous.
You’re no one I’d like to be around. You’re totally out of my league.
You’re nothing I want to be.
So please, this is where we stand. I’m not ready for you and I don’t think I’ll ever be.
I want no part of you.
This is where we split. We can’t share the same pathway of life.
Goodbye, Mr. I’ve-got-it-all-going-for-me-kind-of-person.
You’re the exact type of person I’ve been avoiding all my life.