Comparison Kills The Preciousness Of Love

I look older, I look younger,
I’m too ugly, I’m too pretty,
Which one is it? The former or the latter?
Because I am tired of comparison
My face is what it is, what’s your point?
The vessel of love I hold like a carmine diamond
Lightens with every comparison you make
I can’t win because someone will always
Be steeped in perceived perfection, a golden ring,
Sitting around the apple of your eye
You act like I have wine-colored thorns growing from
My bare back when I get upset about this
Your words are cameras flashing with bitter cruelty
They make me want to hide away from all eyes
The longer you do this, the more you begin to resemble,
A wild and salivating entity from my nightmares
Only caring for pristine reflections, not imperfect thoughts,
My mirror may break, but my soul isn’t that weak
I can’t love someone who projects the world's flaws
Onto me as if I’m the most grotesque thing to ever exist.