You hung me on your vanity,
Beside your brush and lace,
I see you every morning,
When I become your face.
My edges are made of plastic,
To hide my too-sharp ends,
I have no choice but to see you,
So we might as well be friends.
I help you with your makeup,
I tell you not to wear white,
When the camera tells you you're ugly,
I say you look alright.
I know you see things like me,
Throughout your busy day,
I don't mind; I just wait here,
To make sure you get home okay.
Sometimes you look at me and weep,
And I can't figure out why.
I see every part of you, you see,
And I would never lie.
You say your eyes are too dull,
You claim your nose is askew,
You tell me your face is too ugly,
For anyone to love you.
But you don't see what I see;
I see eyes that are full of life,
With a deft nose, and a strong face,
Able to overcome any strife.
But even though I see your face,
Each morning and every night,
You don't believe that you're beautiful,
And you don't think that I'm right.
So you bring your fist up to my face,
And you splinter it through my heart,
Your fist is bloody, but you raise it again,
Determined to tear me apart.
I now lay broken on your floor,
Beside your brush, beside your lace,
The last thing I think, before falling asleep,
Is I'm glad to have been your face.