Scars To Your Beautiful…

She prays to be sculpted by the sculptor
Oh, she don’t see the light that’s shining
Deeper than the eyes can find it
Maybe we have made her blind
So she tries to cover up her pain and cut her woes away
Cause covergirls don’t cry after their face is made

I look in the mirror and I hate what I see. I look in your eyes and I hate what you see. I look at my reflection in the rain puddle in my backyard and I stomp on the face that it shows me.

I hate myself.

I’ve come to learn how to hate all the bits and pieces of myself throughout the years. Society has taught me how to not feel and how to not be satisfied with who I am. Men have confused me by seducing my body but not my mind.

I hurt myself.

The only way that has made sense in my head to love myself is those quick fiery nights, a swig of the bottle that never leaves my side and the power I have to satisfy others thirst. I love myself when others “love” my body but not my core.

I hate myself.