I’m ugly. Not just my face and my awkward and unporpotioned body. Nor is it because I’m fat and stumpy.
It’s my skin. Slashed, scarred, and lumpy from my wrists and creeps up to my shoulders.
I hate my body so much that I need to destroy it.
I hate looking at myself and would rather be burned alive than be touched and stared at.
There is nothing to desire about me.