What is beauty?
Is it the way you look?
How you dress
The way you hold yourself in front of others?
Or is it something you're just born with?

You could be told a thousand times over how beautiful you are
But it only takes one time to ruin your self image
Only once do you need to hear about beauty

She tells you she loves you
She tells you you're perfect
And she tells you you're beautiful

But now things are different
You notice how your body looks for the first time
Bones protruding from every spot
A stomach that concaves back inside your body
Hip bones that could be used as knives

Once you thought your curves were perfect
A place that perfectly fits her hands
Arms long enough to hold her face
And legs that could wrap around her and still have room for more

Mirrors seem to show a different you
Full you has disappeared and dissolved
Like smoke in the night
Reflections shows nothing but a sketch with dead eyes

What is beauty?
Something that I don't have