He called me beautiful
used eloquent words that any person would be drawn to.
When he looked at me,
he had a malicious glint in his eyes,
an omniscient air of what was to come.
He flattered me and complimented me
he reveled at the pink tint that heated my cheeks
he took advantage.
He decided that his grade was more important
than the tears I would later shed at home
than a crushed self confidence
than an ugly girl's feelings.
He decided he would use a broken girl
simply because he was lazy.
For a matter that would be significant for a few days
but would crush me for weeks.
He'd seen the acne scars on my face
and the pudge above my belt.
He saw the pain in my eyes,
something I've been begging people to see for years.
He saw all this and he used it.
He called me beautiful.
But he left me feeling hideous.