Your beauty, my worth

I wish no one ever told me that I’m beautiful. Ever.

Because what is beauty? Is it really something you can see? Is it something you can touch?

I look in the mirror and I see a human, a woman with a face and body. I’m perfectly normal. What makes me beautiful in your eyes?

My Dear Grandmother, you told me once that my beauty is my worth. You weren’t talking about the real beauty, though. You meant the physical appearance. And people have been calling me beautiful ever since. I believe them, so I enter a room and I want to be admired, I want people to notice me, I want people to talk about me. If they don’t, my life is done. I’m done.

I put too much effort in something that doesn’t exist, in something that most of the people don’t care about. I’m drawn on a wall where you can see me, indeed, but in fact you cannot speak to me at all. I’m fake, made of paper.

I wish you never called me beautiful.

How should I live up to that now? You’ve ruined my life… You’ve ruined my life because you make me want to be beautiful. But I’m done. I won’t put a lipstick on only because society expects me to.

13 thoughts on “Your beauty, my worth

  1. sounds just like that mujer in maine
    she said it too
    you ruin my life
    well she you aint ma wife
    and all i said was not a woman
    nothing else
    not to get in ya head
    tell your nana hallo beatle~

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Beauty is an intangible truth that must be acknowledged when found because it can really only be felt, deep within one soul, Something only a few can really sense from someone else to affirm to their most sacred flex of soulful emotions. I’ve always felt beauty within the words you write no matter how bleak they’re scripted.

    Liked by 1 person

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