It's like all those emotions I'd read about:
The artistic, pompous, ostentatious words on a page.

Distorted human feelings,
Showing the imperfection of our design.

Images of bones, hearts, skin,
Every inner and outer thing that makes us this material being.

We could have perfectly soft skin,
But the most un-soft thoughts.

A harsh, "ugly" exterior,
But the most enchanting heart.

I can't even define what ugly means,
Because we're all art and perception.

And no art, no matter what,
Is that.