Beauty

I am beautiful, realistic
I wonder what I will leave behind
I hear him calling for me with open arms
I want to let him do as he wishes, no matter the consequences
I am immune, unworthy, revolting
I pretend I am good enough for them
I believe in nothing more than the pain I feel
I touch my soul in a moment of pain
I feel the bruises, the cuts, every throbbing aspect
I worry of the significance of letting them know
I cry as I am, alone and unspoken for
I am hysterical, single-handed
I understand this is best for me





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