How freeing it would be to feel pretty.
To have vanity written all over me.
To look my worst and feel my best,
To keep my eyes open when I'm undressed.
To never have my confidence put to the test.
How freeing it must be to have been so blessed.

But instead,
Taking a shower is something I dread.
And looking in the mirror I cry so loud I cant hear the voice in my head.
And I think about how I have to be pretty even if it leaves me dead.