So many of them
They're everywhere
I try to not touch them
But I can't help it
They hurt so badly
They appear at the most inopportune times
I won't even know they're there until I
Touch their face and fall in searing pain
I don't know why they won't go away
No matter what I do,
No matter what I try,
They always come
Like an army of ants;
I cannot kill them all
I hate the mirror that tells me the true story of my beauty-
Hidden behind what is supposedly a crueler thing
I wish that people wouldn't look at me, but they always do
I wonder what they are thinking
Will they ever see me for who I really am?
This is why I hide I guess, but not purposefully,
I just wish that I was not a beast of hideousness
That everyone sees when they look at me
I am the beast that hides behind her own face to sift out the people that will not look beyond the skin
So, in a way, I am glad that I am this way
It helps me to be a greater friend.
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