Looking into the mirror

All she sees is a ghostly figure

All she can wrap around her finger

Is the fact that none other said that to her

That her skin was beautiful

She was never told that she was beautiful in her skin

She found flaws in herself that she couldn’t over look

She saw the flawlessness in those opposite her

She felt their kind was far more beautiful

That the gorgeous darkness they possess

That is what she was attracted to

That’s what she wanted
To be flawless

Not what she was

But that phrase

“Your skin is so beautiful”

How could she forget it?

How could she ignore it?

How could she not give it any thought?

He wouldn’t lie…

He spoke what he felt was true…

So could it be true?

She constantly asked herself.

Am I beautiful?

Is my skin beautiful?

Why would anyone want…