beastly

I'm a beast.

The scars from my past haunt me everytime I look at myself in the mirror. I look at myself and a beast I see. I wasn't like that. I am not like that.

But that's what people made me. They turned me ugly. The innocent child that I was, while young, turned, not into a swan, but into a black one. A (not even) human being with scars all over itself, making everyone around stare and judge. Stare not because they're amazed; but because of my "uglyness". Like I was something that no eyes have ever seen; a monster. A beast.

Names were spat in my face, gestures were punched to the bone. Killing the beast softly, that might have been their plan. The goal? Turn me ugly. That might have been because my inner beauty would scare them, so they had to take care about the surface.

But there were some people who could see beyond the scars. Beyond all evil cursed into my skin, into my soul. But none would see me like you do.

You look at me, with your eyes made of earth, amazed and in love. You look at me. Not at what people made me, but at me. Beyond the skin, beyond my brown eyes. You touch me so gracefully, like you're touching a rose. With all its beauty. You look at a beast and you see beauty. And, somehow, I feel beautiful. When I'm around you, all my scars disapear.

You do what no one does: You make me feel beautiful even though other people made me ugly.

You, my dear, love a beast.

And the beast loves you. I love you. I love you, with all my scars, all my flaws and my sins; I love you, beyond scars, flaws or sins. Beyond skin and flesh. I love you beyond my soul, and yours.

I love you.

Beast