They say they love you.
They don't.
They don't want the real you.
They don't want the scars hidden under your smile.
They don't want the intelligence hidden beneath your wile.
They want your beauty.
Maybe you are beautiful.
They say you are beautiful.
You are not beautiful.
The idea of you is.
The real you is just ugly.
The real you is the one hidden beneath layers of makeup and happiness.
The real you is the one they don't see.
So screw them.
They don't love you.
They never ever will.
(your mirror is the bane of your existence)