Want To Be Loved

I sit in a chair and stare at the mirror,
my hair all done but my expression is bare.
I wonder to myself why people leave,
is it my looks, my personality, or the scars up my sleeves?
Do I do something wrong that scares them away?
I just want to be loved but all they do is play.
I observe my face and the way I walk,
the way I dress and the way I talk.
I pull on my face as if I was a plastic surgeon,
maybe it's just that I'm a burden.
The beauty I try to show causes me pain,
sometimes leaves me with a makeup stain.
Am I good enough?
Do you care?
Should I wear more makeup or grow out my hair?
Should I dissappear and be like a stranger?
I don't want my heart to be in danger.