My pictures are perfect.

Every zit, dark spot, and blemish is harmless.

The assymetric features of my face are flawless. 

The tiny scar under my hairline is a piece of me.

The red mark under my eye is my symbol of individuality. 

No side is the same. 

With every mark, I bear no shame.

But a touched up image,

An adjustment of light,

A smoother finish

Or a change to black and white.

Those features are now flawed.

No longer the person behind the facade.