Modle Murderers

A girls insecurities make her feel like the misfit in a perfect world.

His Eyes
His Hair
His Smile
His Voice

Perfect.

Her Walk
Her Laugh
Her Lips
Her Figure

Perfect.

They are all so beautiful,
In the little town with the hills.
They are all so perfect,
So quiet,
So still.

But with there every perfection
brings out more of my flaws.
They all silently,
perfectly,
pleasently,
drive me to my grave.