The feeling of unpretty.
I can't shake it.
So I shower myself with material things just to fake it.
Some people may say I'm pretty
But the women in the magazines tell me otherwise.
Because my body isn't the same size
And because there is no twinkle in my eyes.
And not to mention my slightly larger thighs.
I'm unpretty because the span of my hips are wide.
They attract unwanted attention.
My breast enter the room before me.
Acting as my guide.
Unpretty am I
Because my stomach goes out further than i would like.
Every stretch mark on my body is like a battle wound to me.
Representing every time the wining victory went to the feeling of unpretty.
I'm not pretty like Beyonce.
Or even Janet Jackson.
Obviously I'm alone in the category of "ugly".
Accompanied by only the everlasting presence of unpretty.
And even if there was
Even an once of prettiness inside of me,
My flaws attacked it and left it to die in a pool of red defeat.
Everybody always says "It's so hard being me"...
Try not loving yourself.
Try being stabbed by the vicious thorn of unpretty. ❤