The Guilt of Self-love

Why do I find guilt,

to find beauty in myself?

Why is a fleeting admiration of my own thighs,

followed quickly by regret?

What is it that drags me into self-loathing,

if ever I stop to appreciate the colour of my eyes?

What fuels the ghosts that haunt me,

for my time in the mirror?

How come, I can encourage self-love,

yet derail if I dare to like myself?

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