“You’re beautiful.”
You said.
I never understood why,
why you would lie.

I am not beautiful,
not at all.

You say I’m beautiful during the ridiculous of times,
I’m not beautiful when I write,
I’m not even beautiful at first sight.
I’m not beautiful when I run,
I’m not even beautiful when I’m under the sun.
I count my flaws everyday,
how can I believe anything you say?

But you insist on it every time,
reminding me,
like a chime.
You try and convince me with all your might,
But I will never sleep on it at night.

I am not beautiful,
not at all.