I don’t just have empathy for the rose colored beauties, I’ve been one. — I don’t just have empathy for the rose colored beauties, I’ve been one. I would pair my glasses with the finest liquor, the best face. I mistook the security of a protective boyfriend, as safety. I would tempt, press buttons to prove love. Blame meant I was seen. I’ve become so numb to kindness, I mistake it for motive. So loneliness is now the security I always wanted.