Pretty Girl
♥
The first time I saw you, the first I actually got a good look at you, I was absolutely appalled.
You certainly were not conventionally attractive. Darling, you are the personification of hideous in today’s society. You had tan skin. Your face was littered with blemishes and pimples. Your large nose definitely was not a sight for sore eyes, let me tell you. Large glasses framed your chubby face. Behind those lens stored dull, brown eyes. Plump, chapped lips seemed to form the most awkward smile I’ve ever seen. When you spoke, I couldn’t take my eyes off those teeth. Your front teeth were like a bunny’s. I was afraid those slightly yellow teeth would nip at me. From the neck down was equally, if not more, disappointing than your face.
Your body lacked curves. It was more like a worn out box than an hourglass. Your arms weren’t large by any means. It seems to be the only “slender” thing in your body, which isn’t saying much. Your stomach was disgusting. No matter how hard you sucked it in, it could never go away. It sagged like wet cardboard. Don’t even get me started on the marks that littered your skin. Stretch marks — pale and pink, short and long — polluted your stomach. The number of those wretched scars on your body was the same amount of disgust I had for them. You also have horrible posture. I just wanted to slap you every time you slouched, to condition you to stop. I could spot the stack of back rolls from a mile away.
Your legs were something else. Thick, slightly pale thighs held your large body. Those thighs could crush anyone with little effort. Hairs were scattered aimlessly on your legs. I could hear you coming thanks to those big feet of yours. The ground rumbles like an earthquake with each step you take. By the way, do humanity a favor by keeping your shoes on. Your feet smell like sweat, hot trash, and disappointment.
Your backside makes me laugh. It’s practically non-existent. You have no ass; it’s like a pancake. The only thing I discovered was cellulite in the corner of those cheeks. Same goes for your tits, by the way. How was it possible for such a large girl to have such small breasts?
When you open your mouth, it’s like listening to God cry out for help. Your laugh is contagious — in the sense that it makes me sick. One minute you sound like a dying seal and next, it’s like an elderly man’s last breath of air. Your voice was slightly lower than expected for a girl.
I hate you. I hated looking at you. Society and I can agree on one thing, and it’s that you’re ugly. I don’t know how anyone can love you.
It’s not even your appearance, that is the problem. It’s also that damn personality of yours too. You’re timid yet when you open your mouth; bullshit just falls out of your mouth. Profanities, bad puns, and embarrassing mutters to yourself fell out your lips. You apologize so much for everything that is and isn’t your fault.
Do you think that you could ever be a pretty girl? Maybe in your dreams, but don’t bother living in a fantasy land when you could never even compare in reality.
You certainly were not conventionally attractive. Darling, you are the personification of hideous in today’s society. You had tan skin. Your face was littered with blemishes and pimples. Your large nose definitely was not a sight for sore eyes, let me tell you. Large glasses framed your chubby face. Behind those lens stored dull, brown eyes. Plump, chapped lips seemed to form the most awkward smile I’ve ever seen. When you spoke, I couldn’t take my eyes off those teeth. Your front teeth were like a bunny’s. I was afraid those slightly yellow teeth would nip at me. From the neck down was equally, if not more, disappointing than your face.
Your body lacked curves. It was more like a worn out box than an hourglass. Your arms weren’t large by any means. It seems to be the only “slender” thing in your body, which isn’t saying much. Your stomach was disgusting. No matter how hard you sucked it in, it could never go away. It sagged like wet cardboard. Don’t even get me started on the marks that littered your skin. Stretch marks — pale and pink, short and long — polluted your stomach. The number of those wretched scars on your body was the same amount of disgust I had for them. You also have horrible posture. I just wanted to slap you every time you slouched, to condition you to stop. I could spot the stack of back rolls from a mile away.
Your legs were something else. Thick, slightly pale thighs held your large body. Those thighs could crush anyone with little effort. Hairs were scattered aimlessly on your legs. I could hear you coming thanks to those big feet of yours. The ground rumbles like an earthquake with each step you take. By the way, do humanity a favor by keeping your shoes on. Your feet smell like sweat, hot trash, and disappointment.
Your backside makes me laugh. It’s practically non-existent. You have no ass; it’s like a pancake. The only thing I discovered was cellulite in the corner of those cheeks. Same goes for your tits, by the way. How was it possible for such a large girl to have such small breasts?
When you open your mouth, it’s like listening to God cry out for help. Your laugh is contagious — in the sense that it makes me sick. One minute you sound like a dying seal and next, it’s like an elderly man’s last breath of air. Your voice was slightly lower than expected for a girl.
I hate you. I hated looking at you. Society and I can agree on one thing, and it’s that you’re ugly. I don’t know how anyone can love you.
It’s not even your appearance, that is the problem. It’s also that damn personality of yours too. You’re timid yet when you open your mouth; bullshit just falls out of your mouth. Profanities, bad puns, and embarrassing mutters to yourself fell out your lips. You apologize so much for everything that is and isn’t your fault.
Do you think that you could ever be a pretty girl? Maybe in your dreams, but don’t bother living in a fantasy land when you could never even compare in reality.