Broken Beauty

I wish I could smile

without feeling like a liar.

My lips do not shape the half crescent moon you see in the array of stars,

without a treacherous amount of convincing.

A mixture of guilt and regret brew,

curling my mouth into a heartless abyss

that can never be genuine.

I wish I could be proud of my accomplishments,

rather than loath myself for everything i am not.

I wish my heart would pulse pride through my veins every time i breath,

Because breathing is a sign of life,

A signification that I am still here today.

That is something to be proud of.

I wish I could see that i am,

the truth within the definition of success.

I would trade all my possessions,

and everything I have ever been,

for an un-cracked mirror if acceptance.

I wish I could understand,

that I am my own definition of beautiful.