There once was an ugly.....

I am the scratch mark  
on your last layer of paint,  
the stuck-out nail  
your hand snags against.  

The awkward walk  
of a cowboy’s gait,  
the turned away face  
with a glimpse of disgrace.  
 
The hand that covers  
a mouth of despair,  
the pure inhibition  
that lets children stare.  
 
The freak summer wave  
that makes the beach scream,  
the bloated carcass  
as you drink downstream.  
 
So I sit here alone  
and pour out a poem,  
dressed in the way  
that she gets to know him.  
 
Smooth out her dress,  
slip on her high heals  
and remind myself,  
just how good I feel.