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Meenu Syriac Jul 1
I look at her,
her sad eyes and juvenile wrinkles.
A face riddled with scars and red bumps,
interweaved with healed and unhealed flesh.
I wish I didn't care about what I see in the mirror.

I wish I didn't care about how my skin feels against my fingertips,
or what I see when I search for my reflection.

They talk about loving yourself
but how can I,
when all I see is a hideous monster?
I know,
I know.
There are sorrows much painful,
woes more pertinent than mine.
But how do I tell my mind to stop crucifying itself?

How do I diffuse these electrical impulses,
from my eyes to my brain,
carrying an image of my face and interpreting it as

I wish I didn't spend so much time,
trying to wash this dirt off me,
trying to pick and probe at the scabs,
when I know it's a part of me,
arising from me.

How do I stop myself from judging my worth
as the sum of these scars
that lie skin deep?
BD Apr 19
They came expected,
But oh so unexpected,
Dusk stalking blue skies and sun,
A small patch; barely infected,
Just a few weeks and they’ll be gone,
Just a few weeks and they’ll be gone,

The naivety of my youth allowed me to forgive them,
But time has passed,
They have been feeding,
Like mould in a damp corner,
I ‘must be handling them wrong’,
A new product promised to do wonders,
To my ears an angel’s song,
Just a few weeks and they’ll be gone,

And yet a few turned to a family,
Beneath the diet, the exercise, the routines, the gallons of water, the research,
I could hear Lucifer laughing,
Like that one person at my school,
That was a year ago,
And yet they and Lucifer still laugh at me,
Through murky panes and pictures,
Just a few weeks and they’ll be gone,

Every day they disappear more,
I tell myself I’ve won,
Yet old pictures show me it’s an illusion,
Surely they’ll end for summer’s fun,
Just a few weeks and they’ll be gone,

I now greet my friend the mirror,
Between everything I do,
He tells me it’s getting clearer,
His story’s must be true,
Just a few weeks and they’ll be gone,

I am a fool to my own deceit,
For the naked eye of me the whole world,
Can see these demons,
These scarlet brandings,
And every glimpse I catch in my friend the mirror,
In the reflections of a stranger’s wondering eye,
The voice in my head says ‘why me’
That’s all that it’s come to,
There is no more light in this night that has consumed me,
So all that is left,
Is echoes,
‘Why me’

But they won’t be here for long,
Just a few weeks and they’ll be gone.
Kieran Mar 19
Remember that
From far away
Acne looks like freckles
And grossly feminine hips
Are just curves

Remember that
To strangers you are nothing
But your looks are everything
And hair is just hair
And twins are just sisters

Remember how
When you were six
The names of different trucks
And dinosaurs
Seemed so very important

Remember how
When you were sixteen
The names you gave yourself
And others
Seemed so very important

When you are sixty
That to someone else acne
Is no different than freckles
And your name is so very important
Darcy J Mar 13
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.
Allison Wonder Nov 2018
You're like the zit I shouldn't squeeze.
I only want to pop your head,
And pinch your soul until it bleeds.
Allison Wonder © 2018
moon Jul 2018
i've always suffered with acne. i've written about it before. but yeah, it started really in 7th grade. it was one then two then a whole family then before i knew it, my face was red and bumpy and it hurt.

i've tried everything. i really mean it. every home remedy, every recommendation, every tip, every product on the shelf and a few online. nothing's really helped. throughout these years and i'm now a ------ and i still deal with it. because of my acne, it's taken a huge toll on how i view myself and how i feel about myself. i used to hate myself. i would only look in the mirror once every day and that's to put on makeup to cover scarring and acne that's still there.

i hated myself. so much. i wouldn't go out. my parents, specifically my mother, had a lot to say about my face. she would point it out even when i had makeup on and it made me really insecure.

now, i think differently. i'm currently breaking out because i ate a small piece of meat. (which i don't really do, because i don't eat meat anymore. i did it for reasons which isn't relevant right now lol) so yeah, my face is red and bumpy again. washing my face with my eyes closed, i can really feel the pimples. it made me feel disgusting for a moment. but i had to remind myself that it's okay. i'm different now, i don't really care if i break out anymore. of course, i still feel a bit insecure but i don't hate myself because of it.

i still feel like i did when i wasn't breaking out. seeing my face like this has really been a sign for me as saying to myself:
1. don't eat meat anymore, under any circumstances/situations
2. it's okay

i'm okay with my acne that i had in the past now and i'm okay with the breakout i'm currently having.
this is growth, right?
mj Jul 2018
I have acne
and they leave scars

I love my skin
despite the marks

Etched on my face
is a piece art...

My skin,
surely a canvas.

I have craters

I have valleys

I have mountains
high and low

Each my own
I have learned
to love them all on my own
Amethyst Jul 2018
I’m in a bit of a situation
There seem to be weeds blooming all across my face
The weeds are red
They are blooming all aross my cheeks
All across my forehead and chin
and even some buds on my nose
I don’t like the weeds
And neither does anyone else
I’ve tried everything to get them go away
but nothing works, and they’ll always stay
these weeds make me sad
oh so sad
and now my tears just water these weeds
I refuse to show the world these hideous red weeds
i have been taught to hate the unwanted
and to strive for perfection
but perfection is something i’ve never known
so for the moment i cannot make these red weeds disappear
and from now on i’ll stop quenching their thurst with my tears
for now all i can do is love them
love these red weeds that cover my face
and hope that one day i’ll find someone who can love them too.
just a poem about acne, because i’m struggling with it and when i feel sad, i write about it.
moon Jun 2018
on my cheeks there are constellations of periods of stressed times,
of bad times,
that i couldn't stop the picking.
yes, i know mom,
it makes it worse.
but my hands wondered as the days grew longer and that anxious feeling sat next to me like a trained, loyal dog.
my hands wondered to the places on my face that made me feel less than,
my cheeks.
i closed my eyes tightly as i ran my hand over small bumps and big bumps and bumps that hurt and bumps that i wouldn't let heal.
i cried for hours on end.
my mother made me try every product on the shelf,
oh how i remember the sound of the cash register ringing as my mother paid for another product that i knew just wouldn't work.
but still i tried,
and i tried every home remedy that i could find on the internet.
crushed up aspirin,
green tea,
and toothpaste.
oh the toothpaste how i thought it would work.
how i woke up the first night and found burned acne scars from the toothpaste,
oh the toothpaste.
i touch my cheeks now with closed eyes,
no bumps except on bad days,
smooth skin,
i don't cry anymore because of it.
but when i look into the mirror i see dark spots of where those bumps laid,
i am still a sky full of constellations
and i'm learning to be okay with that.
Daisy Rae Mar 2018
they cover my face from forehead to chin
they rest in the most uncomfortable creases
they are red as a rash
and big enough as a bug bite
they stick out, they lie under my skin
they hurt and they sting when I try to scrub them clean
i’ve tried washes, creams, pills,
special oils, face masks, lotions,
the works
i don’t like the mirror because it makes me look at
these things that take up half my face
i don’t like to take pictures when my face isn’t clear
and makeup just makes it worse
i don’t like to go out
because I know others are watching
and wonder how someone could be so ****
these pimples just don’t go away
no matter what I do
so please, if you meet me
and want to give some advice
i’d much rather you not
because, you see
i’ve already tried it all
and please do not utter that phrase
for I surely will blow up in flames
”oh stop acting like it’s such a big deal”
try living as me for a day
and you will see
that this feeling of dread
about the bumps on your face
never goes away
and you will surely see
that you look like this
and they look like that
and I promise you wouldn’t want to be me
Chronic acne is something I struggle with and what a lot of people also struggle with. A lot of uneducated people will assume that we aren’t trying hard enough. Dealing with chronic acne is not a walk in the park and needs a lot of work to be able to control it. Educate yourself before giving us your advice, we don’t need it.
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