I spent weeks campaigning an idea of happiness. It couldn't break in words- you didnt feel I was worthy of such. Then, I was okay with that; I was getting over it in deafening silence. I didn't deserve a good-bye and I know that. You spent days trying to convince me I was beautiful in and out: you succeeded. But now I feel uglier than before for believing your selfish lies. Now I'm feeling, oh, my lack of innocence: I would have done anything to get you to stay, but against my trying, you left anyway.