The Eyes of Beautiful
How could you love this skin i'm in
I don’t even love this skin myself
Rough are these patches
Millions of scratches
Months till they go away
Yet you see beauty anyway
Shallow you are not
Yet my mind ponders on what those eyes see
What those hands feel
The insecure fruits of my basket overflow
As you run your fingers over my imperfections
Imperfections that you deemed perfect because somehow
You see beauty anyway
And though there is so much more for the eyes to see
Everyday you set your eyes on me
Very interesting I would say
That you call me beautiful everyday
But still, I wish you didn’t have to touch
What I think I see
Because imperfect portraits are painted in this mind of thee
I hope that portrait goes away
So I can say that I am perfect for you in every way
But I guess that feeling will come another day
When beautiful can see herself