A word with exclusively negative connotations in my mind, usually relating to injury or disability. Not a word that I am enjoying writing about to be honest!
The face that was in front of her was disfigured, gruesome even. The nose was bent sideways and the mouth seemed to be stuck in a permanent sneer. The man was dead, had been for 2 days and left to rot in an abandoned house.
she was not disfigured. she Was beauTiful. She waS lovely and deLicate. All giRls are. Lovely. BeauTiFul. iT wasN’t Disfigurement that made people Fear her. it waS beaUty.
the letters were disfigured,
bent with age and weather,
wracked by cold.
they stumbled across the page like very old men
or young children.
i opened the envelope and they were blinded by the light.
at last.
As I approached the man sitting outside the coffee shop, I felt a lump form in my throat…. What made me think that this man would want help, need help? I wonder if he ever gets over the staring, the avoiding
I feel disfigured on the inside. Mentally… emotionally. I broke down once and it pushed you away. You saw the darkness and deformities within me and ran. I knew in that moment I needed to do the work, go the distance, to reform and be better for you, for me, for us. Your bond to me continued to grow weaker and weaker and I tried to work harder and harder. Things always get worse before they get better. All I asked you to do was just be there. To just hold my hand. To remind me that you were there and you were going to be there… I was going to do all of the work… I just wanted you to be by myside to hold me and love me through all of the good days and bad. You left… reaffirming the beliefs that had made my soul the mishapen thing that it is.. Despite all of the hard work I was going through… I was not even worth enough for you to stand by. Now I am back at square one… possibly even worse than before. I was going to get there, Nathaniel. Thank you for making me feel crazy, thank you for reaffirming how utterly worthless I believe myself to be, thank you for comparing me to your painful past… despite all of the love I gave you… All of the work I did to prove that I found you and us worth working and fighting and changing for. I still am going to get there… I need to prove to myself that I am worth it. I need to show you that you’re an asshole and not worth as much as I previously thought.
Not since the incident has anyone seen his face. He’s been in hiding for six years. Never emerging from what was left of his home. He shades the world from his disfigured visage.
The veil lifted. The lake wasn’t kind to her. At least not to her appearence. The knowledge she gained was worth it though.Pinkish slush still dripped from her body which was now disfiguerd and horrible to look at but as everyone now hoped the scret of the strange liquid now could bring hope to the tunnels agian.
Disfigured is how something is taken away, making something look incomplete. We miss things that are taken away and we think what is left looks different, like it’s lacking. These things are sometimes even the same experiences, but without one thing to make them significant, we seem them as distorted and incomplete.
His muddled body laid in a big heap. I sobbed uncontrollably at the scene in front of my eyes.
A body. A gun. A man.
“Don’t move or I’ll kill you too!” The man spoke with hesitant authority.
I began to hyperventilate, losing control over every fiber of my being.
“I said DON’T MOVE! Do you wanna join your husband!”
He readjusted his mask and moved to the door, keeping his gun pointed directly at my rattling chest. A little boy peered from behind my back, pointing his tiny finger to my nightmare.
“Mommy, why is dad sleeping on the kitchen floor?” His gentle curiosity pierced through my heart. My poor boy. Just don’t do anything to my little boy. I pressed my palm against his lips, silencing him as the man took off his mask.
“Mom! What’s wrong with his face?”
The disfigured man slowly turned to my little Chris, a bloodshot eye staring directly into his bright blue ones. Without a word, he raised his arm, whipping the gun out and running towards us. I grabbed Chris’ body and leaped towards the ground. He pulled the trigger, he killed my son. He pulled the trigger, he killed himself. I pulled the trigger, and I cried.
I hated the mess I’d created for myself – there was no escape. Nothing could take me away from this hell. It was all my fault, I’ll admit. If I wasn’t angered so easily, it wouldn’t have happened.
I promise.
The body was horrid to look at, the mangled thing long past disfigured. I told myself it wouldn’t happen again – ever.
I said that last time.
The man was horribly disfigured by the fire. After multiple surgeries, he was able to eat properly at the table. His family was happier when he wasn’t drooling. They were able to finish their dinner with out incident.
It was horrible and yet, he couldn’t look away. He was staring and he coudln’t even imagine the pain the person must be experiencing now, with him so blatantly looking at the scars littered al over the mans pale underweight body.
A man once lived at the edge of a town in the country of Kentucky. He was a great man. However, in all sense of the word, he was very disfigured; physically, mentally, and emotionally. His demise was a tragic one and could not have been avoided.
He knew he couldn’t bare to see her back anymore. The lashes, the scorches, all of it. The disfigured coloring and marks always made him cringe. And now, he was going to face a similar fate.
Of course he was. What did you expect? The aftermath of a crash carved into living flesh. He stood no less than three meters away and yet the distance might as well have been miles. I realized I seen his face for the last time in my life.
i found a penny on the ground as i was walking downtown on my way to the restaurant, i noticed the penny had been disfigured from being trampled on by so many people stepping on it and grinding it into the pavement. I thought to myself how beautiful and shiny this penny once was when it was brand new, nothing more beautiful than a brand new copper penny. Copper is a very beautiful metal when it is new. i have shoes that are copper colored, i wear a copper bracelet on my left wrist that helps alleviate the pain from my arthritis. there are five copper cooking pots in my kitchen that are used for specialized cooking.
He expected George to be disfigured after the accident, but there was no noticeable damage. The surgeons had done their job well. But after a few minutes in the old man’s company he could see the real scars were on his soul. The kind, gentle friend he once knew had become angry, rude and unforgiving.
I thought I had figured it all but he made it clear now. It was i who was disfugured. I ruined him. Me Mrs. Belene Worth ruined my own husband out of my misunderstanding. Out of the entire commotion that had taken three years before I figured that Ruse, my husband had cheated on me. He had an affair with the one women I hated the most. Today when I look behind I figured out again I was the one who was mistaken. Out of one misunderstanding I ruined my wedding. Divorced my loving husband and i’m all alone now. Ruse would never forgive me for what I did to him, if he knows. But could I keep the truth for myself? Its hard to not feel guilty. My doubt distroyed him. My disfigured knoweldge ruined him.
She shapely face had become a mess: it wasn’t that she wasn’t beautiful, just she wasn’t the same. Maybe her personality had changed. Or something else? Everything was out of the ordinary, looking disfigured.
I’m not very beautiful. At least, in the conventional sense. My nose is long and sloping; it’s like a sharp beak that could break glass if I looked the wrong way. My eyes are set too far apart, and my skin is disfigured with ugly acne scars. I don’t particularly care when people tell me that my face suffers from lacking of conforming to rigid beauty standards. It’s unfair, really, to dictate what someone should look like. Am I lesser of a human for my thick thighs and wide hips?
She’d walked through the fire, she’d made it and would never again be confined to that prison, but her skin had been blistered and burned, would most likely never heal completely. She looked down at her body, her clothes having been burnt to cinders as she had walked through the flames, and she grieved for the person she had once been, but it was only the surface that had changed.
Oh, the holy disfigurement game. Everyone will try to be the fairest of the land. It is taught on every young mind in the world. How the fair shall win. How the ugly shall perish in the nastiest end. No wonder people are so afraid of disfigurement.
He is disfigured, but that is a blessing. For the disfigurement give him protection. A protection against his enemies, even if they mocked his name in front of his very eyes. So what exactly is his disfigurement is, it is not something of big disgust and gore. It is of having a heart.
Quasimodo there you are
stand before us your soul to bare
there’s no disguise nothing to forbear
plainly seen and distant stares
make naked the angry truth
life’s not fair no reproof
we all have in us such a sorry state
your’s is laid before us
no mask, no shield
The bloody, slithering feelings continued. Moral compass never pointing north. Sanity lost. Disfigured. Broken. Damaged. I could never be fixed. I was gone. I was beyond repair. Stolen. Lost.
I could feel it inside of me. Everything I had ever been through. All the pain I had heard, all the things I had to push through. All of it. It was all eating away at me. I knew that a lot of the things I thought about were useless. I just felt so disfigured inside.
A word with exclusively negative connotations in my mind, usually relating to injury or disability. Not a word that I am enjoying writing about to be honest!
The face that was in front of her was disfigured, gruesome even. The nose was bent sideways and the mouth seemed to be stuck in a permanent sneer. The man was dead, had been for 2 days and left to rot in an abandoned house.
A man had his face disfigured by car impact. His arm had been broken too. When happens the crash his car burned out. But his leg was desfigured too.
she was not disfigured. she Was beauTiful. She waS lovely and deLicate. All giRls are. Lovely. BeauTiFul. iT wasN’t Disfigurement that made people Fear her. it waS beaUty.
the letters were disfigured,
bent with age and weather,
wracked by cold.
they stumbled across the page like very old men
or young children.
i opened the envelope and they were blinded by the light.
at last.
As I approached the man sitting outside the coffee shop, I felt a lump form in my throat…. What made me think that this man would want help, need help? I wonder if he ever gets over the staring, the avoiding
I feel disfigured on the inside. Mentally… emotionally. I broke down once and it pushed you away. You saw the darkness and deformities within me and ran. I knew in that moment I needed to do the work, go the distance, to reform and be better for you, for me, for us. Your bond to me continued to grow weaker and weaker and I tried to work harder and harder. Things always get worse before they get better. All I asked you to do was just be there. To just hold my hand. To remind me that you were there and you were going to be there… I was going to do all of the work… I just wanted you to be by myside to hold me and love me through all of the good days and bad. You left… reaffirming the beliefs that had made my soul the mishapen thing that it is.. Despite all of the hard work I was going through… I was not even worth enough for you to stand by. Now I am back at square one… possibly even worse than before. I was going to get there, Nathaniel. Thank you for making me feel crazy, thank you for reaffirming how utterly worthless I believe myself to be, thank you for comparing me to your painful past… despite all of the love I gave you… All of the work I did to prove that I found you and us worth working and fighting and changing for. I still am going to get there… I need to prove to myself that I am worth it. I need to show you that you’re an asshole and not worth as much as I previously thought.
Not since the incident has anyone seen his face. He’s been in hiding for six years. Never emerging from what was left of his home. He shades the world from his disfigured visage.
The veil lifted. The lake wasn’t kind to her. At least not to her appearence. The knowledge she gained was worth it though.Pinkish slush still dripped from her body which was now disfiguerd and horrible to look at but as everyone now hoped the scret of the strange liquid now could bring hope to the tunnels agian.
Disfigured is how something is taken away, making something look incomplete. We miss things that are taken away and we think what is left looks different, like it’s lacking. These things are sometimes even the same experiences, but without one thing to make them significant, we seem them as distorted and incomplete.
His muddled body laid in a big heap. I sobbed uncontrollably at the scene in front of my eyes.
A body. A gun. A man.
“Don’t move or I’ll kill you too!” The man spoke with hesitant authority.
I began to hyperventilate, losing control over every fiber of my being.
“I said DON’T MOVE! Do you wanna join your husband!”
He readjusted his mask and moved to the door, keeping his gun pointed directly at my rattling chest. A little boy peered from behind my back, pointing his tiny finger to my nightmare.
“Mommy, why is dad sleeping on the kitchen floor?” His gentle curiosity pierced through my heart. My poor boy. Just don’t do anything to my little boy. I pressed my palm against his lips, silencing him as the man took off his mask.
“Mom! What’s wrong with his face?”
The disfigured man slowly turned to my little Chris, a bloodshot eye staring directly into his bright blue ones. Without a word, he raised his arm, whipping the gun out and running towards us. I grabbed Chris’ body and leaped towards the ground. He pulled the trigger, he killed my son. He pulled the trigger, he killed himself. I pulled the trigger, and I cried.
I hated the mess I’d created for myself – there was no escape. Nothing could take me away from this hell. It was all my fault, I’ll admit. If I wasn’t angered so easily, it wouldn’t have happened.
I promise.
The body was horrid to look at, the mangled thing long past disfigured. I told myself it wouldn’t happen again – ever.
I said that last time.
He thought himself disfigured by the wounds, not only by the scars on his flesh, but by the damage to his soul.
The man was horribly disfigured by the fire. After multiple surgeries, he was able to eat properly at the table. His family was happier when he wasn’t drooling. They were able to finish their dinner with out incident.
It was horrible and yet, he couldn’t look away. He was staring and he coudln’t even imagine the pain the person must be experiencing now, with him so blatantly looking at the scars littered al over the mans pale underweight body.
A man once lived at the edge of a town in the country of Kentucky. He was a great man. However, in all sense of the word, he was very disfigured; physically, mentally, and emotionally. His demise was a tragic one and could not have been avoided.
He knew he couldn’t bare to see her back anymore. The lashes, the scorches, all of it. The disfigured coloring and marks always made him cringe. And now, he was going to face a similar fate.
He was horribly disfigured.
Of course he was. What did you expect? The aftermath of a crash carved into living flesh. He stood no less than three meters away and yet the distance might as well have been miles. I realized I seen his face for the last time in my life.
It was no longer the face of my brother.
i found a penny on the ground as i was walking downtown on my way to the restaurant, i noticed the penny had been disfigured from being trampled on by so many people stepping on it and grinding it into the pavement. I thought to myself how beautiful and shiny this penny once was when it was brand new, nothing more beautiful than a brand new copper penny. Copper is a very beautiful metal when it is new. i have shoes that are copper colored, i wear a copper bracelet on my left wrist that helps alleviate the pain from my arthritis. there are five copper cooking pots in my kitchen that are used for specialized cooking.
He expected George to be disfigured after the accident, but there was no noticeable damage. The surgeons had done their job well. But after a few minutes in the old man’s company he could see the real scars were on his soul. The kind, gentle friend he once knew had become angry, rude and unforgiving.
I thought I had figured it all but he made it clear now. It was i who was disfugured. I ruined him. Me Mrs. Belene Worth ruined my own husband out of my misunderstanding. Out of the entire commotion that had taken three years before I figured that Ruse, my husband had cheated on me. He had an affair with the one women I hated the most. Today when I look behind I figured out again I was the one who was mistaken. Out of one misunderstanding I ruined my wedding. Divorced my loving husband and i’m all alone now. Ruse would never forgive me for what I did to him, if he knows. But could I keep the truth for myself? Its hard to not feel guilty. My doubt distroyed him. My disfigured knoweldge ruined him.
I ruined him…
She shapely face had become a mess: it wasn’t that she wasn’t beautiful, just she wasn’t the same. Maybe her personality had changed. Or something else? Everything was out of the ordinary, looking disfigured.
I’m not very beautiful. At least, in the conventional sense. My nose is long and sloping; it’s like a sharp beak that could break glass if I looked the wrong way. My eyes are set too far apart, and my skin is disfigured with ugly acne scars. I don’t particularly care when people tell me that my face suffers from lacking of conforming to rigid beauty standards. It’s unfair, really, to dictate what someone should look like. Am I lesser of a human for my thick thighs and wide hips?
She’d walked through the fire, she’d made it and would never again be confined to that prison, but her skin had been blistered and burned, would most likely never heal completely. She looked down at her body, her clothes having been burnt to cinders as she had walked through the flames, and she grieved for the person she had once been, but it was only the surface that had changed.
Oh, the holy disfigurement game. Everyone will try to be the fairest of the land. It is taught on every young mind in the world. How the fair shall win. How the ugly shall perish in the nastiest end. No wonder people are so afraid of disfigurement.
He is disfigured, but that is a blessing. For the disfigurement give him protection. A protection against his enemies, even if they mocked his name in front of his very eyes. So what exactly is his disfigurement is, it is not something of big disgust and gore. It is of having a heart.
Quasimodo there you are
stand before us your soul to bare
there’s no disguise nothing to forbear
plainly seen and distant stares
make naked the angry truth
life’s not fair no reproof
we all have in us such a sorry state
your’s is laid before us
no mask, no shield
The bloody, slithering feelings continued. Moral compass never pointing north. Sanity lost. Disfigured. Broken. Damaged. I could never be fixed. I was gone. I was beyond repair. Stolen. Lost.
I could feel it inside of me. Everything I had ever been through. All the pain I had heard, all the things I had to push through. All of it. It was all eating away at me. I knew that a lot of the things I thought about were useless. I just felt so disfigured inside.