How do they see something so absent
I see a disappointment
I see something that will never be anything more Than a plain thing that will never be blessed with Beauty.
I see beauty in the ones who feel the same as me
Me and my freaks, my failures, my beauties under Their beasts
I see the beauty, they see the beast,
The see my so called beauty and all i see is Something more Ugly and awful looking than anyone Seems to see...
I see my self.
The beast is my self.
My wild hair, my howling laugh, my limping foot, my different sized eyes, my thighs, my stomach
Im so imperfect, A crippled little beast.
Among the beauties, the fair, the smart, the graceful, And the ones who see them selves as i do.
We look in the mirror and feel ashamed
Though we look a each other and feel love and envy
We feel sad that the other can’t see this so called beauty
We turn away when complimented
We can’t bear to think that we are beautiful
Because that mirror, the camera, that reflection in a window all say
“You know they are blind, don’t back from the truth, look at your self, you need to be perfect.”
So we starve our selves.
Cause our mirrors tell us the truth of our beasts