You might think that the people who are constantly taking photos of themselves,

Are the ones obsessed with their appearances.

And I don’t know,

They might be

I’m not here to guess.

I’m just thinking that it’s awfully brave and all

To save the photos to your camera roll,

Where anyone could see them.

I don’t understand what people say,

What people see.

They say I have a unique face.

And I don’t think there’s much uniqueness in beauty.

I look like a fucking renaissance painting.

Nobody finds those beautiful today.

My face is lopsided, it’s unbalanced, asymmetrical,

Just like me.

I don’t care about how it will affect romance.

Maybe my personality will be the saving grace.

I just want to be pretty.

I don’t want to be lied to anymore.

I don’t want to lie to my own reflection.

Why is it that I look different in every single mirror I see?

Even lighting.

I’m suddenly a different person.

I don’t like this other person.

I want the pretty one back.