Magazine

i look at the girls next to me. they look like girls from magazines, that i once could never be. i wonder how you like me. theres so many other girls with golden hair, but instead, you chose me. i wonder why you chose me with all my insecurities. they are polished silver, as i am rust. They shine like chandeliers in a ballroom ,as i am the one that reaches for the dark. They are roses touched by the clouds and melldew, as i am the rose with one to many thorns. When i look in the mirror, i never see the way you seem to see me. I guess i have foggy glasses on, as it seems. theres better girls out there than me. why did you choose me? was it my smile, or the way i wear my hair? the thing that's on my mind, is why you chose me. ill never be a girl in the cover of a magazine.