Imperfection

Imperfection.
It looms
large.

Those ill-fitting clothes only magnify
my lack of curves
my pack of nerves
when they bunch all wrong
in all the wrong places.

Who would ever want this?
Not me
Not he

Those angle bones jut from everywhere.
Sharp enough you could cut yourself.
Touch not.

This is beyond even Cosmo's advice. They have already shrugged me off and sequestered me from real females.
Relegated me to wannabe status.
Want to improve your sex life? First you have to have one.
Six ways to make him drool? Imaginary men don't have saliva.
Dress for your figure? Mmmm...nevermind.
Want to feel great about your job, love life, family, school? Try morphine, yours sucks (all of them)

Those locks will never lay along your nape
alluringly.
That skin will never be smooth and clear.
That chest will never be, well,
B.
Those legs will always be stubbly.

All the things wrong
the walk the talk
the shoes the hair
the skin the teeth
the shirt the skirt
the butt the glasses
the hips the thighs
the wheres the whys
the split ends the sighs
and the size

Imperfection
It looms
large.