If I could, then I would.

If I could appear as less repulsive to your eyes,
If I could just scrape past your criteria of 'beautiful',
If I could be free from blemishes and frailties,
Then trust me when I say this: I would.

Haven't felt so awfully little thus far of the year, despite being called big.
Ironic, isn't it?

All I want to do is to curl up in bed and hide underneath my blanket that seems to comfort me from all the hurt, and perhaps wallow in self-pity about my hideous self.

Here comes the feeling I thought I had long forgotten.
It never left; Was merely hidden at the back of my head and dug out again.