Poetry

No Beauty.

Am I beautiful in the morning?
Am I beautiful when I cry?
Am I beautiful when I'm sick of your shit?
If I break the mirror will you stop saying it?
Or will you tell me I'm beautifully insane?
Baby don't make me beautiful.
All I know of is ugly views and ugly memories.
You keep photographing me like I'm a view.
I paint my face with make up and damn I look good.
But beauty isn't always a pretty face.
I can be cruel.
And my beauty will turn to ash once you realize that.