beauty is but a curse
in this wasteland of wasted souls
but whos to say i'm beautiful
when i'm falling so hard
for all fallen angels go to hell
but at least you'll be there with me
and when i'm on the floor
you look down at my with pity
but i will look up smiling
for i'm content, thought i'm condemned
in this life filled with their happiness
a slave to this perfectionist society
an upside down puzzle piece
jammed in
left to my own denial
