Somewhere far from the past

I have never been the angel everyone thinks I am. I have never pretended to be one, I don't know why people think so highly of me. Is it because of my looks? People say I have an innocent and handsome face.

I took the silver eyes from my mother. And thanks god, because my father has the most basic brown eyes you can ever see. 

Those eyes have seen much. Maybe too much. They have shown me pain and happiness, they have shown me naked bodies and pretty faces. They have shown me love and disappointment. They have shown me much.

And that ash-blonde hair, I got it from my mom again. Messy untameable locks that felt the entangling fingers of enough girls.

I don't pretend to be a player. No. I was something much worse.

I got much from my mother. But I wish I got her courage to leave. I wish I got it sooner.

I was born and raised in what I thought was a happy fam