Just look at yourself,

It can’t be that bad.

There must be worse out there,

What you’re doing is mad.

But I’m not mad am I,

You can see it too.

You lie to my face,

Act like you do have a clue.

Because, apparently, you can’t see,

the shit that I can,

the glaringly obvious

flaws in God’s plan.

The nose, the teeth, the hair, the brows,

the fat, the folds, the lines, the scar,

the chest, the stomach, the hips, the waist,

and that’s not even going below the bar.

I don’t want eyes on me,

I don’t need your rejection.

For the simple truth is,

I already see all my imperfections.