We are ostracized by a table
half the size of the dining room
and I am looking at you
and you are laughing.
And I am watching you
and you don’t look at me;
and this is why I don’t believe you
when you say I’m ‘pretty’,
when you like ‘my personality’.
I see the way you’re smiling,
the way your eyes are glinting,
and maybe you’ve finally fooled me.
But in those moment, I swear
you look, you seem
And maybe that lessens the blow
of the lie:
that I know you never watch me
when I’m having a good time.
So the next time we are at a table
and this time, I’m at your side,
I’ll still cherish that smile,
But won’t confuse it for your validity
of my ‘pretty’
No, without you,
without it, I’m still me,
I’ve been doing just fine.