Pretty Faces

there's a lot of pretty faces around
sometimes i get tired of seeing them,
but they didn't choose to be desirable
the world attached a value to them
measured by earthly, mortal instruments

another night on the town. the town, of my mind. where i'm floating but everything is oh-so-hazy, like a vision smothered in smog. haze on haze on haze. and within that haze... a girl wades around, searching for clarity.

she tries to understand what is going on in his head, but can't. perhaps because she set the boundaries, fun is all she'll get. would he ever open his mouth if otherwise? she convinces herself she understands him, that his aloofness is due to trauma, past circumstances behind his control. those are excuses, excuses she doesn't want to give him for the benefit-of-the-doubt. but does anyway, because he is a stranger, a pretty face.

he says he likes being as pale as the moon
he says he can't understand the allure of the sun
he prides himself on his appearance
perhaps shreds are all he has left
he, too, is another lost star i can't have
in a lover's sea of stars