I know that I am an outcast, I know that. Do you think I could forget with people telling me every day? They call me fake, insecure, weak, and more importantly a freak. I am sorry God wasn't concerned with beauty and stability when he made my life. I am a monster, but I am not one of the dangerous varieties. There are plenty who are though.
I'm talking about the monsters who hide behind false facts. They rip and shred at the truth until there is nothing let but their successes. They hide behind false talent and show it with snapping teeth. The monsters who create their beautiful skin with crayons.
People pass monsters every day. You might even be one. You sit with them and let teeth near your throats. The monsters smile and laugh and pull in popularity through false faces. There wolves, their sharks and they make no mistake when there is blood in the water. Blood from people who stood up against the lies. They were left bleeding so that they wouldn't think to make that mistake again. I have bled many times. And each time my scars grew thicker and thicker until it didn't hurt anymore.
Most people cant see what the monsters look like under their porcelain masks and red lips. All they see are innocent brown eyes and a slim figure. They don't see the scales and talons they show me. Its funny. They call me the monster, but monsters like me only look the part. And I prefer that to the false facades and double edged words I am an honest monster. I bear my scars and chains and let the people see what real monsters have done to me. No lies, no false fronts, I am what I appear to be.