I bite the skin around my fingernails,
if it’s not smooth,
I can’t help it, it’s addictive,
they have to look perfect,
and when I say perfect,
I mean media perfect.
My chipped fingers doesn’t make me any less loveable,
and yet I feel like it does,
skin hanging off loosely doesn’t mean I’m not beautiful,
but I feel like I’m not.
It’s skin, just skin.
They say beauty is skin deep,
but they portray beauty with pretty skin,
and the more I pick I subconsciously think,
am I pretty now?
But I was pretty before I ripped skin off and bled,
I would be pretty if I didn’t even have fingers,
and why does it matter anyway,
being pretty doesn’t and shouldn’t matter,
being me matters,
with all my chipped skin and fingernails.