Stop Looking At Me

My hair can't save me anymore, it's not enough
to hide behind when I'm feeling shy.
Gone are the days where I could use it as a shield.
I can't shyly dip my head and view the world
through my hair.
The bigger it was, the more self conscious I felt
because the flaws and imperfections cover my face
and make me feel like less than nothing
always.
And it breaks my heart to hear you say
"I'm so ugly", because you're perfection.
Look at me,
I'm too ashamed to look you in the eyes
no matter how much I love to see them.
I keep my head down because I'm too full of pride
to let you see me this way.
I always fervently rebuke your self depreciation,
and my brain travels to thoughts of my own image
and how much I despise it
and how much I yearn to tear it off and start over
and how much safer I'd feel, placing a mask over it.
No amount of compliments, even from you,
could reverse my self image.
I know you wouldn't mean it anyways. 
You never mean anything.
Stop looking at me, I swear.
I can feel your eyes traveling over the
bumps
and dark marks
and scars.
Stop looking at me.
Because I know what you say about others
and their insecurities and flaws
behind their backs
and I can't stand imagining you saying that
of me.
It'd break my heart.
Stop looking at me.
You'd like me better that way.