My Poems

beautiful

He will look at me while I am wearing barely anything and say 

'You are beautiful'

Let's get this clear. I am not beautiful.

I am fat, I am covered in scars, stretch marks, blemishes. 

I am anything but beautiful.

That doesn't mean that anyone else who is like me isn't beautiful. 

Because everyone is beautiful some how.  

But me? No. I am not beautiful

Most of my scars are from blades and lighters

My weight is there causing these hideous marks because instead of putting down that damn food I still fucking eat. 

I am ugly. I am unlovable. 

But when he looks at me when I am stood in front of that mirror. 

When he stands behind me and put his arms around the front of me and hugs me tightly. 

when he kisses my cheek and looks at me in the same mirror I am looking at my self in. 

And he still calls me Beautiful. 
I am more lost than I was at the start. 

Because how can it be possible for him to see exactly what I see. 

But see beauty where I see hate.