Beauty in hell

In this world, I'm still trying.
I think I'm doing better. So I'm not crying.

I am a beautiful creature. I am myself.
But that beauty is only my shining shell.

I have an ugly soul. In there, is nothing but bitter. Something like poison, wrapped in glitter.

I am an porcelain doll. Made to represent beauty. And from inside made to remain empty.

Only for other's eyes to see. My beauty doesn't go away.
It always stays.
Like the emptiness inside my shell.

The loneliness. The beauty in hell.