Th Feeling of Being Ugly

I know the feeling of being ugly – pretty escapes me; and if you tell me otherwise I won’t believe you.
I feel anxious despite the yoga- comfort and ease do not meet me.
I remain uneducated although I hold a Masters degree – true intelligence is foreign to my thinking.
I know disrespect and disapproval- words of praise and acceptance don’t absorb into my skin.
I know how to avoid and how to lie. To tell the truth would be terrifying to my cells.

I move quickly as to outwit the shadow that follows me.
I know this way of being does not represent my potential -just my temporary reality.
I remain in a cross roads between the mean and the serene.
This uneasy place screams at me. It stretches my skills and rubs on my skin.
I feel raw, my thoughts are disorganized and my spirit is dulled.
My ugliness is imagined to others – but it is very real to me.