My Bed

When you lay in bed crying no one can judge you.
Just when I thought my self esteem grew,
It might've but I've still got certain walls to break down.
I pray no one can hear my hurt yells and other sounds.
I want to feel  beautiful and see what you see.
I know I've got good qualities, like my intellingence and being fiesty.
I look in the mirror and sometimes I see repulsive mess.
The image shines back and all I can ever see is second best.
How can I ever see this beauty that you speak of?
I was once told all I'd have to do is rise above.
Every time I do though, the bar gets just a little bit higher.
My head tries to stay up around these hysterical liars.
It's only me, myself, and I crying alone late at night.
No one can say anything to me about why I'm wrong with their wicked light,
Shining on me, exposing all, seeing me at the moment weak.
They can't wonder why I'm crying and try to critique,
Me and the way my thoughts flow through my head.
I am safe, alone, and comfortable in my bed.