Hands covered in scars
And I know
It's my fault

I wonder
Who could ever love them?
They are just a reminder
Of what I've done
And that isn't beautiful
At all

Blood isn't beautiful
Injuries aren't beautiful
Especially when I'm the cause

People
Want
Perfect

But I want to be loved like a hot pepper
For my flaws
Even when they aren't pleasant
Or beautiful

Unfortunately
I'm not a vegetable