I look in the mirror,
She looks back at me,
I scrutinize every feature that i see.
Inward and outward,
So many flaws.

If she were a work of art,
I would have begged the artist tear her apart,
He would have told me o look close,
And interpret the beauty.

Scars and flaws give her the little bit of beauty she has,
But she is like a broken plate,
Pasted together, not to be used on a dinner date,
So she sits there and collects dust.

I hide her away from the world,
She is too fragile and too scared of all the evils that unfurled,
She has seen such dark things and has been hurt,
I am her armour, sword, battered shield,
I fight one on life’s twisted battle field.

I am always on high alert never letting anyone near,
I must guard her and conceal my fear,
I must hide her delicate self away,
We are one yet she has never seen the light of day.

Scars and flaws make up her twisted beauty,
I have tried so hard to completely mend her,
A broken spirit and wounded soul,
Too tired and too weak to single handedly complete my goal.