Pretty?

My eyes look
At the beautiful girls that pass by,
Why can’t I look like them?
I ask myself in the mirror later,
I feel my eyes like a burning gaze
Cast all over my face,
I feel hot tears coming out,
Yet I hide them.
I tell myself,

“You can barely look at yourself normally, don’t cry.”
And
“You’re an ugly good-for-nothing, why were you even born?”

I look at my dark skin and I scratch
And scratch
Until what I see is white.

I look at my big nose and pinch it hard.
“Beauty is pain”
Something I’ve repeated to myself over the years
Over
And
Over
Again

I stare again,
But I’m still as imperfect.
My eyes burn
Burn from hiding tears
Built up and stored
Burn from anger
From wanting to tell someone
Something
Anything

I take a hard look back.
“Stupid.”
I muster.