“I'm not beautiful.
Don't tell me I'm beautiful just because you got a glimpse of my scars, you don't know the soreness slumbering beneath, emitting heartache into my veins.
I'm not beautiful, because of the proof that I had to survive an inferno of storms, on my own.
But I'm still lovable, because I made it through, albeit a wolf out of the pack.
I'm lovable and I'm alive.
So don't tell me I'm beautiful, that's not what I want to be.
But tell me I'm alive upon witnessing my marks, and tell me you love me for it.”