I looked at the mirror,
And saw these dark pairs of eyes staring into mine;
Messy hair tied in a bun,
The silence in me was about to whine;
Pale skin from another cold night,
The victory were the scars all ready to symbolize.
I was in love with my flawed skin in the moment,
It was nothing but beautifully mine.
It knit stories of its own,
All that’s needed are the eyes to scrutinize;
It maybe the monster you talk about in stories,
Or maybe you would see the enchantress with immense beauty;
It might be the darkness that balances your sunshine,
Or the light that invades your dusky sky.
You see these bodies with the perfect tone,
And then there are these perfect sizes,
Lips as soft as rose petals,
Honey dripping from their lovely voices.
While I being the ‘lesser-beauty’ in this aesthetic world
Was more than happy with its perfect imperfections,
Being the one comfortable in my own skin,
With flaws that carried beauty within.