Today I Am Devastated To Know I Am Not Beautiful

Most days
I am me.
Long nosed and quippy and full teeth.
Laughing at my thin wrists and squinting eyes.
Patting beauty on its back,
grandstanding by its side.
Today,
I am waxing hollow.
Hideous and woe betide.
Knowing what that look implies.
Coveting steely eyes. Jawlines.
Wondering,
what if beauty became mine?
Most days,
I concede.
Today,
I wish they would talk about me.
I wanna be double taken,
see fumbled keys.
I want a beauty that feels fatal.
Instead,
the mirror looks like betrayal.
Most days
I am most able
to be who beauty forgot.
I believe everything is beautiful.
Today, I know I am not.