betterimpact
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I can feel my blood boil.
My eyes picking out all the imperfections.
Harsh criticism that makes me bleed from the inside out.
When I was a young child, I loved myself.
I confidently strutted my polka-dot sweater and striped skirt,
"I am Flawless" I mean I guess....I didn't always think so though.
The way my stretch marks curve over my lower.
The baby tooth I have that refuses to come out.
Flawless
It is just a word
People strive to become it
People die to become it
But it is just a word
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
That's one person's opinon
