Each day I awake and am shortly greeted with my own reflection;
Pale, ragged, and gaunt
I am greatly lacking in self affection.
I twist and turn, examining and hating what I see.
Too big here, to small there
But should anyone ask? "I'm sexy being me."
The confident smile is false, applied daily just like makeup--
Covering this and altering that
As if the real me is simply a hiccup.

Nobody really seems to know that the person they see is made of lies.
This lonely face--they call it beautiful,
But truly there is beauty only in the disguise.