I hate my shell

When everyone’s a critic

No matter what I do to attempt to be given that Brand Name

“Beautiful.”

I’ll always come up short.

The only beauty I possess

On my whole body

Are the scars.

They make me unique

And no one else has them…

the same way,

If at all

Like a snowflake or a fingerprint

Perfect…but,

Blood red

Because they won’t melt away

Or be used as evidence

They’ll bleed and I want more

It’s too late for me

I’ll crack this shell yet

One scar at a time