If She Was Good Enough, He Would Have Stayed.

She was a girl who had always felt inadequate. 
She wanted so badly to look like her. 
She wanted to have those beautiful eyes that reminded her of the galaxy,
Even though she had a radiant pair herself.

She wanted those full lips that she had. Lips that any guy would only dream of kissing. 
Only because her own lips had never been kissed, even by the guy who claimed to love her more than anything in the world. 

She never felt good enough. 
Why would she? 
If she was good enough, he would have stayed. He would have been there for her on nights when she felt like cutting. Instead, she spends such nights on her bathroom floor, butchering her arms. But she never really goes deep enough to take her own life; only because a little shriveled part inside of her that still has hope that he'll want her again. (Well not again, since technically, he never really did.)

If she was good enough, he would have stayed. He would have been there for her when her parents fought. He would have been there to promise her that they'll never end up like they did. Instead, she sits in her room, and slashes her wrists with a razor that was only meant to sharpen pencils. 

If she was good enough, he would have stayed. She wouldn't be sitting in a cafe, writing this, with trembling hands, because she's been starving herself, only because she feels so empty and lousy, she doesn't believe she is worthy of any calories, because she feels incapable of filling the hapless void that occupies a big part of her. She would not be living on laxatives, and appetite suppressants. 

She would be in his arms, just like it was supposed to go, because for once, she would have been good enough for someone. Worthy enough for love. But in reality, she never is.