They said she was pretty in that
girl-next-door kind of way.
They might've been right.
But she didn't see it.
She saw the scars on her body, the blood no one else saw.
She noticed the imperfections no one cared enough to look
for.
She saw it all.
And she could've been pretty, it's
true.
But she wasn't.
Because she wouldn't accept that
she could've been the best.
