Me, Freak of Nature

People say they don't feel pretty enough,
I don't understand,
their angelic eyes look into the mirror,
my unsymmetrical ones look too,
I try to find these imperfections,
I don't understand,
I find nothing.

Bodies handcrafted with Immanuel's care,
he carved every adept detail, every lustrous alabaster tooth,
each plump fuchsia set of lips,
slender hands that grip around brush,
to soothe that hair, I don't understand,
I try to find these imperfections,
these lies that roll of their tongue,
I find nothing.

Me, freak of nature, I would say Lucifer made me himself,
but he was once an angel,
he only punishes the evil,
I can't say I've done anything evil,
besides grace people's line of sight,
I understand,
I try to find these imperfections,
these truths that I speak,
I find every single one.

crimson spots blemish my face,
my meagre lips curl around my crooked and yellowing teeth,
I brush every day twice a day,
the rough bumps that mark my body,
too rough for anyone to run their fingers over, too rough for anyone to lavish their attention on,
too rough for anyone to love,
i myself can't even love it,
and I am stuck with it forever.

my stomach bulges out,
my thighs grow when I sit,
so I stand,
I understand,
I understand why people don't love me.

But I don't understand,
I'm kind,
I like to think I'm funny,
I have so much to tell people,
but before my lips even part,
theirs are curling in disgust.