She

My nose is covered in blackheads
    My face, pockmarked with craters, looks like the moon
And she still thinks I'm cute.

My hair is shaggy, unkempt
    Dirty blonde, impossible to comb, permanent bad hair day
And she still thinks it's pretty.

My arms are scrawny
    Mantits, a fat stomach, T-Rex mode legs
And she still says I'm attractive

I have very few hobbies
    One of which is just dicking around online
And she still thinks I'm interesting

I screw up every joke I tell
   I think puns are truly hilarious
And she still thinks I'm funny

My fingers are clumsy on the fretboard
   My songs are simple melodies, simple chords
And she still loves to hear them

My stories are too short, too weird
    Poems I write, like this one, are terrible
And she still loves reading every word

Half my stories and poems are about her
    She inspired most of my songs
And I still can't show her enough how much I love her.