Mustela in words

Do not tell me that I'm beautiful,

As your words seem shallow to me.

Although I know, what the mirror shows,

Is not what others see.

How can I believe a word you speak?

If my perception is so bruised.

Torn by voices in my head,

Denial and refuse.

I'm not that pretty pale-skinned girl,

That you try to convince me I am.

I'm nothing but a useless failure,

So ugly, it's a scam.

The biggest scam there ever was.

and yet you still believe,

I'm something special, something good,

More madness yet to weave...

I can't control the way I think,

and even if I could..

I refuse to let my sanity,

Rule over as it should.