Sometimes life deals you bullets,
And sometimes those bullets stay on your face in the form of grotesque accessories that you never wanted but can't get rid off.
These are the bullets that have hurt me,
and although they only appear on the surface,
I can feel them shooting holes inside of me every day.
They ****** my confidence and wound my features leaving me with the smallest but most impactful scars for the rest of my life.
To the bullets that throb on my face,
for now, I will hate you,
resent you,
cry over you but one day I will be the last one standing,
I will be the Victor, with a face held high in a bright light staring happily in a mirror.
However, this is the future, I just wish that the future would come as quick as a bullet.