Désolé

I'm sorry you have to look at me,
it's my deepest regret.
You do not deserve, a face such as this,
In your peripherals,
unhinging your bliss.
How do you not flee with terror, 
when I lazily come near.
Do I not ruin your day,
when I happen to stare?
Ruddy skin,
scuzzy and drab.
Craters intrude,
on my already mishapped mask.
DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME I'M PRETTY!
For I know this is a lie.
Don't give me false hope,
when I already want to die.
The truth hurts, but I've learned to take it.
Ugly am I, has become an understatement.
My disfigurement is beginning to flame,
with embarasement and shame.
My dark portals spring a leak,
salty and strained.
Why do they continue to taunt me,
for circumstances beyond my control?
God made me this way,
so he must make mistakes....
Albeit, it may be a blessing,
one marvelously clothed.
I don't have to look in the mirror, I don't have to look at myself. 
Yet, you my unfortunate peers do not have that choice.
You are cursed into looking into this face, damned into looking into this soul.
What's painful for me,
must be unbearable for you.
I am truly sorry that you have to look at me,
I apologize for the agony I may evoke.
I am sorry you have to look at me,
I pray for an invisible cloak.