I asked God for perfection

And he asked “why?”

“Perfection is weakness, that stops anytime”

I begged for loose long hair

That cascaded down my back

And a back hairless

Connected to long skinny legs

I cried for a small nose

With a sharp beautiful tip

One that would brush against another’s

While a smile graced our lips

I sobbed for a love

One like no other

One impossible to diminish

In the face of obstacles

God did not answer

Punished me with long fat fingers

Average fat legs

And hair that barely grows past my shoulders

I asked a higher being for perfection

And they too asked “why?”

“Perfection is subjective, and changes all the time”

I begged for my sideburns,

Though natural, seen as unfeminine and vulgar,

To disappear in a mist and die by their lonesome 

I cried for no double chin

And an order of pink luscious lips

To touch another’s

While my mind raced 

To say “I love you” without fear of being pushed away

I sobbed for a love

Any love

Romantic, platonic, I wouldn’t care

To love my body rolls, insecurities and tubs of envy

A love stemmed from perfection, even if only temporary

But the higher being did not answer 

Punished me with loneliness

Long fat fingers

Average fat legs

Hair that barely grows past my shoulders

Sideburns

Body rolls, insecurities, a tub of envy
And a double chin 

I asked for perfection, my greatest fantasy, but was left empty in my own insanity.

Isn’t that funny? 

How begging works, I mean. 

To hope for something so direly, only to be pushed away.

I still beg for perfection, except I no longer have hope. Because for me perfection is impossible, an empty wish that is worshipped by a tub of envy whilst forever being a hoax.