Doesn't matter, pronounce 'does it matter', spelled y-e-s

I want to make you my mirror,

Because I smudge my mirror every time I touch it,

Trying to reach through,

And I never want to see my reflection again.

I don’t want to see that scared little girl anymore,

I don’t want to see that girl named Abigail she is terrifying.

But if I smudge my mirror enough I can see you.

I can defend your honor against that imaginary bigot who tries to abuse us with words,

Little do they know that my whole body is made of words.

Words that I use to sculpt my image,

And all I’ve ever seen you do is clean up my spillage,

From my watercolor spit that I use as ink to smear across a page.

I use to try and impress you and yet you have no idea I exist.

That I have a name.

But that's ok I never asked yours.

I have sores and aches in my fingers straining for an original love poem.

It's impossible to try and write what has yet to be written,

Everything is just rewritten in paraphrased lines mixed with abstract art stolen from someone else.

But I tear apart the dictionaries to find the closest thing I can get to ingenuity.

And my gratuity is paid in glances and lopsided smiles.

Hello.

I’ve seen you for under three hours in my entire life.

Love at first sight is a myth then explain why they struck me.

Why I couldn't stop thinking about that stranger named pansy.

That stranger I named after the thought of my favorite poem,

Hi.

That's all it takes a simple hello,

But when your as uncomfortable with yourself as I am you know,

That pansies don't date weeds.

And my poetry is simply weed killer,

Because I know I’ll pull the trigger,

At the most inappropriate time.

Hi, I’m abbey. I love you.