Beauty. Overwhelming, desirable, stunning beauty. I like my tarnished skin littered with scars. Her skin is perfected with tanned skin and freckles galore than face across her skin. While she is skinny and has friends that love her and boys who chase her I am a freak who is known for her sadness. Sea blue eyes that cherish the secrets of the water and seashells and natural eyelashes with a face of an angel and straight brown hair with a flock at the end as a shine so gorgeous I cannot help but envy it. She is loved and known for her kindness and beauty yet only I know what face is fake and which one is not, leaving my stomach in twisted knots. Boys can’t deny that when she passes eyes all turning as faces contort, yet when I walk past and comment about my love of reading or intelligence is made. While she is a dancer and can move so gracefully I am tense and cannot even do such things, my hands are made for instruments while hers are for pom poms and for the hand holding of boys. For I am nothing like that girl, her eyes shine nriggt like the earrings she sports and the shirts she wears doesn’t look strange on her while I can’t leave the house without a mirror in hand if asking how do I look even though I know it’s bad. I can feel the eyes the follow her lead and the way faces turn and eyes stare her down.

Remarkable beauty and a face like a lamb, a Cupids boy at her lips making her look grand, I cannot even describe the depth of her beauty abc the way freckles splatter her face and cheeks, the tan showing over her, a contrast to my pasty skin. She’s beautiful in every way, head to toe and back again. I wish to be the way she looks or know how she feels knowing she fits everyone’s appeal. I can’t help but be jealous of her stamina and perfection and sports and dancing. While I can’t do a cartwheel nor do the sporty stuff she can. If I remembered her from years ago her face was the same, though she got more gorgeous each and every day. Everyone wants her so why when try when she is all that anyone else can need and want. The mask that conceals her true face is still as beautiful ad the fake face beneath, even with pounds of makeup on I cannot compare to the shine of her eyes to the way she flips her hair. No matter what to her nobody will be able to top her beauty and stunning smile and shiny eyes. Sometimes it makes me feel a way about myself, I wish I could be somebody else….