her hair which always fell into that effortlessly breeze-swept silhouette across the side of her face.
her lashes that curved out in perfect, harmonious spaces along her eyelids
her blatant collar bones that showed all of it's affection
her chapstick-soft lips
her button nose.
to him, she was perfect.
but he knew nothing about the life she lived
her fondest memories
her churlish thoughts that denied her sleep night after night...
and he knew not the things a man could say that made her feel like she mattered.
because to him, it didn't matter.
and so as he tried to refill her heart day-by-day with inanimately sweet words she could only sigh and wonder why [the hell] she was still wasting her time.