it is the white hair on your head
it is the belly fat on the border of your jeans
it is the wrinkles on your skin
it is the crooked teeth when you smile
it is every single part of you that you hate– beauty
YOU ARE READING
palette
Poetryshe built herself a castle but it was a castle made of cards even the queen of hearts would not be able to shield hers.
you
it is the white hair on your head
it is the belly fat on the border of your jeans
it is the wrinkles on your skin
it is the crooked teeth when you smile
it is every single part of you that you hate– beauty