"acne" poems
You tell me I'm beautiful,
pretty,
gorgeous,
But why?
Because you are not tricking me,
But only yourself,
You think,
"If I tell her she's beautiful, maybe I will grow to believe it too."
Well sweetheart, it is working?
You ignore the flaws of my body, my face,
Only to deceive your own mind,
Because if you saw my flaws you might no longer love me,
You chose to ignore my acne,
Because if you didn't, you're afraid you would leave,
You chose to ignore my protruding chin when I smile,
Because you wish you had someone who could smile sunlight rays,
You chose to ignore the redness in my skin,
Because you want to believe what matters is within,
But is it working dear boy?
The more you use the word beautiful,
Does it make you any more confident being around someone who's not?
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
This is for you:
-the girl who is so ashamed because of her acne,
-the girl who cries in front of her mirror because she doesn’t
look like Picasso’s muse,
-the girl who forgot how to smile because of her problems,
-the girl who cries her eyes out every night because of him,
-the girl who is so terrified to attach because of her past relationship,
-the girl who is different from the others,
-the girl who wants to save every soul she meets, except hers,
-the girl whose heart, blood and soul runs wild,
-you are so much more than the sprinkles from your skin.
-you're not Picasso’s muse, but you definitely are God’s muse.
-don’t waste your life being so stressed, just enjoy the journey.
-you need to be strong.Cry your heart out, but stop,your tears are too worthy , make them rare, for the real ones.
-try to love yourself first, then someone else.
-your future is not defined by your past.
-you need to save yourself first.
-run with them, darling, and never look back.
This is for you, girls.
You, no matter what, are good enough.
You are lovable.
You are strong.
You are independent.
You are different.
You are rare.
You are you, and that is your power, learn how to use it.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
Most
people connect
the freckles on their skin
to create constellations of stars
I try to connect the acne scars only to find that nobody wants to see those lines of insecurities that travel down my back, and over my shoulders
My shoulders that feel like they carry the weight of the world, are
strong, are scarred, are swimming-built, are still beautiful.
despite what those who do not know me may think.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
I Craw in the Urban Jungle night after night, making shadows my best friend
Because my pale skin would get sunburn in the day time.
Many of you have read about me on the internet,
But don't know if we exist like the Yeti or Bigfoot
Every now and then you see photos of me and hear stories about our existence
But here I am, White, Nerdy and…. Nerdy
Nerdy like the Nerds falling out of the box and skipping on the floor of my lair
(or my parents basement whatever you call it).
Some moments you will find me praying to my shrine for my savior, Weird Al Yankovic
Many of you may call us “ Losers”
But let me take a moment to tell you why you are wrong, in every way.
First off, We are not losers we just win at things that you don't care about
Like the Rubik's Cube, Dungeon and Dragons, and Larping
We don’t care about making friends, getting the poo tang, or getting high off of our *****
No we are too occupied trying to plan how we will survive the zombie apocalypse,
Or debating on if Star Wars is better than Star Track.
We are too busy reading comic books, Leveling up our one handedness
On Skyrim of course.
You think that we are hideous,
But in all reality, my acne improves my defenses against mother nature,
My braces are actually tools that government uses so they can reflect solar flares back to space
I'm ugly because god decided to make me pick up girls on ******** mode because before you Meet me it was way too easy.
Many of you think that we are weak
I may have spaghetti arms, no abs, but you know what, no problem,
Because if you look at my shadow, you see someone that 10 feet tall and bulletproof
I am a nerd, hear me roar.
My roar breaks your paper thin confidence
As it just floats in the wind like leaves, leaving the tree in October
My roar will rock your house with all of your friends leaving you alone because in the end, you May be popular but lets be honest, who are your real friends?
Call me weak, I dare you
Being a nerd has taught me many things
Like don't eat cake because it is deceiving
And that Neo should of taken the blue pill
Because that movie series was terrible.
And that DC Comics is the best, ***** Marvel
But the one thing it taught me the most is that be proud of myself.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
There must be a next step --
all middle steps appear broken
Spit out like a used razor blade
sitting with *** cheeks
barely on stone steps
face burning beneath the acne
swelling across the cheek,
It must have been her pimples
why else would anyone reject her?
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
Do you see these nails that are bitten and torn to shreds.
Do you see my hair that is mangled and tangled, it hasn't been washed in days.
Do you see this acne on my face, I pick at it till it leaves scars.
Do you see the clothes I'm wearing, I bet I haven't changed them in weeks.
Do you see this room, I haven't cleaned it in months
Do you see my teeth, they bleed because I haven't brushed them in awhile.
Do you see I go on binges of eating or not eating, cause I feel guilty.
Do you see I go on benders if drinking or smoking.
Do you see my eyes and face are red from crying recently.
Do you see my texts I never send cause you wouldn't care.
Do you see when I say "I'm ok", "I'm fine" that those are just lies.
Do you see my smile and laugh, it's mostly fake.
Do you see how I sleep all day and wake up and go right back to bed.
You don't see but you should.
This list could go on for infinitely.
It's signs like this that should be noticed.
Depression, anxiety or any mental illness is important for learning the signs.
Your story matters just as well as your voice.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
This woman of blonde locks
slim body and perky *******
acne and ribcage and vertebrae
she gives me that look
drawn smile with teeth bared
heaving tummy and deep stare
into my eyes like, "Come on."
Like a run-on sentence I'll make
her come on my face all night
and all day the next day
Best *** we ever had,
we had on a naked mattress
after a Sunday doing nothing
This woman of five o'
clock shadow and travel size ****
loose skin from weight loss and a thick neck
she is me and look
at that lucky feel
smearing over my dark mug
like I just won the sweepstakes
Like a run-on sentence she'll run
She'll run, she'll run, run me till
we need an oasis
Best *** we ever had,
we had on a naked mattress
Squeeze your legs
Squeeze your legs
Squeeze your legs
Squeeze your legs
Squeeze your legs
Squeeze your legs,
Release them,
A baker's dozen
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
I was told I was fat.
Shamed for my body, called names and all that.
I learnt to hate myself by them at that time.
They made me feel like being a little curvy was a crime.
So I started working on getting thinner, not for health or fitness though.
But because I thought that way I would be loved and accepted more.
I finally did become slimmer and i was happy.
I slowly started to regain the confidence that they had mercilessly stolen from me.
And just as it started getting a tad bit better, I was shamed for being short.
Couldn't they just let me live my life in peace or what?!
They crushed the little confidence i had gotten back.
Again in their stupid circle of high expectations and "physical beauty is true beauty" I was trapped.
I worked on getting taller everyday.
Crying myself to sleep when nothing worked at the end of the day.
And so they taught me time and time again to hate my body.
And I know I did, I am so sorry.
They said my acne was ugly and it needed to be hidden.
Going anywhere without makeup or not dressing girly enough was forbidden.
"No do not sit like that, talk like this, wear this not that, always smile."
They said these horrible things and silly me, I actually listened for a while.
But one day I decided I did not care.
So what if I didn't have what they called the "perfect figure" or the nicest hair?
I loved myself and that was it.
I was beautiful whether or not they believed it.
It was not an easy fight.
But I think I did alright.
They still say things all the time.
But I've grown to listen to just one voice, mine.
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 3:30 PM UTC
Everyday,
I stare at my face in the mirror,
Wondering, wondering, wondering,
Why do I have acne?
I eat the slice of double cheese pizza that's cooling in my hand,
Putting it down, I touch the underdeveloped pimples on my face,
Popping each one out of irritation,
I finish by drinking two can of coco cola after.
**Oh, what a healthy life style I'm living!**
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:43 AM UTC
Writer's block has clogged my mental pores
Oily ignorance I cannot ignore
Technology is fogging up my mind
Leaving me no time to unwind
I looked in the mirror today
And guess what I saw
My ugly, stunted imagination's face
Full of gross digital zits
I'm really starting to miss
My former wit
I've got to get out of this keyboard-y place
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
beyond Montana’s yellow lines
there is a field
~a field of painted soles
and laces rubber tread
~a field of ****** curls
and fallen headlights
where kaleidoscope lenses
look onto twisted frames like origami halos
where teddy bears hug stop signs like pickets
fringed in anger
runaway childhoods sleep cautionary tales
beyond Montana’s blushing acne
there are red cup melodies
blasting from blacked out tints
weaving blues notes through Rock & Rap
distant cries are drowned by Bass
or maybe Bud (light)
a haze of teenage eyes
they might as well be ghost riders
whip game copped from GTA
these pubescents are a Vice to their City
blooming sidewalk sloths
like flowerbeds
beyond Montana
is a country of bar stools
where bar tenders play therapists
and therapists play coroners
precedents are shots of whiskey - taken to the head
and reflected in flooded eyes
beyond Montana
is a country of MADD mothers and SADD students
beyond Montana
is a country of unexpecting pedestrians
beyond Montana
is a field
~a field of wing-clipped snow angels
That field is Mariah's home now
and she challenges you to change
yourself
your friends
your country
she challenges you to
STOP DRUNK DRIVING
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
\
I'm not as half as beautiful as this man
/
But he's a Halfie like you
\
He's got no acne, I got scars on my face
/
But scars go away
\
Scars are scars they stay
/
No, they heal
\
Oct 2, 2022
Oct 2, 2022 at 2:05 AM UTC
1st grade
She was called short
2nd grade
She was called stupid
3rd grade
She was called clumsy
4th grade
She was called fat
5th grade
She was called ugly
6th grade
She was called flat-chested
7th grade
She was called acne face
8th grade
She was called fake
9th grade
She was called a ***
10th grade
She took her life.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
Hey, past me from so close yet seeming long ago...
A knot from my sweater's bow I regret tying despite how unkempt the ribbons look hanging by my sides because now it's digging into my back
The hair I can't decide if I want out where it's pretty and makes me look less like a generic nerd yet gets in my face and food and life
The jeans I insist upon wearing without a belt even though their slipping down my **** may actually outweigh the pain of loosening the belt
The tennis shoes I'm too attached to give up that emit a constant squeak, squeak, squeaking through the hallways whether it's caused by residual rain from outside or not
The glasses, fond of slipping down my nose at frequent intervals, covered in smudges I rarely notice till they get out of hand
The phone whose screen happened to crack at the most inopportune moment and takes forever to read my finger print
The jacket that should be a highlighter blue but rather presents itself as a canvas of the week's tomato stains
The face covered in acne-
The stomach with fat instead of muscle-
The arms lacking muscle-
The legs with too much hair-
I've always acknowledged that perfection is not possible, yet I have to at least try to strive
I think, as I sit at my desk, fingers typing fragmented sentences, attempting to convey thoughts speeding too fast to grasp
Yet, just a simple poem of reflection brings to light these numerous deficiencies, many of which I COULD fix were it not the invisible fiend upon whom I stamp the label-laziness
These deficiencies, many of which aren't even noticed by those around me, some of whom are better some are worse
But it's not as simple as that, I've known I can't just be "one of the people", I need to find something, some identity, some way out of my seemingly impossible to escape label of "just above average"
In academics, in extracurricular activities, EVERYTHING, I seem to be at a stagnant
I've done bad, I've done "just above average", but never above. What is the point if you get plenty of losses and plenty of "fine" but no victories?
It's something about me though, somehow I believe, subconsciously, I'm impeding myself. I'm holding myself back.
...
Why?
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 3:50 PM UTC
My eyes always see the floor when I walk by
But my ears can still hear the mocking laughs
Fingers pointing at me
As though knives stabbing me repeatedly
Splitting my heart into halves
I still look in the mirror that doesn't lie
They have eyes, nose, lips, and everything
And so do I
Now, what's wrong with this face of mine?
The acne, freckles, pores, scars, and whatnot?
People can have it, who says they cannot?
"Too slim, too fat"
I am me, can't society accept that?
I asked the mirror that doesn't lie,
"I'm beautiful, aren't I?"
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC
You've got lies
Like you've got acne
Raw and sour
They deform the skin of the room
Leave scars on its silence
Creep unbidden into pores
Brand themselves into reflections
Hung
Ugly as battle wounds
On the arpeggios of conversation
And you wear your lies
Like you wear acne
Smothered in pretty chemicals
You deliver them like scripted text
Into a world of disingenuity
The self-affected
One-trick-pony of your tongue
Plays them down with beauty
But fails to remove their aftertaste
So please,
Feel free to keep talking
But I thought you should know
That no one's listening any more
And we no longer believe in
Your cries of 'wolf'
Because we know that
No matter how you sing your lies
The world will not cease to orbit the sun
And then re-align itself to you
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC
Don't love me for my picture perfect days
For that is not who I truly am
Don't love me for the days my hair looks flawless
For that isn't really me
Don't crave me for the days my makeup is done perfectly
For I am full of flaws
Love me for me
Love the me that has acne on her skin
And face wrinkles when she grins
And struggles to grow eyebrows
Love the me who's face goes puffy when she cries
And the me who has stretch marks on her thighs
Love the me that gets too emotional about her favourite films
Love the me that rolls out of bed in the morning, tired eyed, scattered hair and all
Love that me
For I am not my picture perfect days
I am a girl who's full of flaws
Love me that way and I will love you without pause
For I am perfect in my imperfect way
I hope you see my flaws and decide to stay
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 3:00 PM UTC
Perfect Imperfection
My eyes are brown and big,
But darker than a twig,
My nose is flexible,
But it goes red in the cold,
My skin is sweet and gold,
But I've got spots and moles,
My lips are soft,
Like a rose~
but scarred at the left side,
I used to want to hide,
because I felt so ugly,
on the outside,
but I knew inside I was a perfect imperfection,
My anger is just !toxic,!,
Like a snake with venom,
and I tried to bleach my acne,
With CUCUMBER and LEMON,
I put on too much make-up,
Because I saw IMPERFECTION,
I thought I wasn't worth it,
Anything GOOD would throw me DOWN,
I was so NEGATIVE,
like a crying CLOWN,
But things are getting better now,
because I see how,
I've got perfect imperfections,
and everyone can see me smile,
But I am only human,
So I'll cry every once in a while,
even when I feel truly happy,
And wilder than the wild.
By Larna Kira Kourtis
Aged 14
~Peace~
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 7:03 PM UTC
she looked out from the inside
at the world
rushing by
all the people hurried past
and no one ever smiled
no one had the time
no one had the time
to stop
and look at her
really look at her
why would they look?
she was plain
anyone could see that
with brown eyes and straight brown hair
she had acne on her forehead
her front teeth stuck out a little
anyone could see that
she had a nervous habit of biting her nails
then again all her habits were nervous
but anyone could see that
but she was not plain
she had eyes that melted into honey when she laughed
and turned to a starless night when she cried
sunlight would frame her profile, just to be close to her skin
and when a smile graced her lips
the world held its breath
because look at her
just
look
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
your worth, it is nothing
you are nothing
you are nothing comparable
how can someone be compared?
you are unique to the highest degree
there is no definition for your beauty because your looks are more than a couple sentences
not only your looks
but you
look at you
look at you on the inside
do you see all the power you possess?
from every weakness you may have
to every strength you have
from every acne scar
to every single muscle which may or may not be defined
you are powerful in every sense of the word
you are powerful because you are human
you are powerful because you were made to be great
you are powerful
you are dynamic
you are wonderous
you are absolutely extraordinary
you are a story that I would love to read
you are more than how you view yourself because I view you as heavenly
you are absolutely breathtaking.
repeat after me,
I am absolutely breathtaking
I am absolutely breathtaking
I AM absolutely breathtaking
you are...
a million things that cannot be put into words.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
What's on, what's there
What can't be touched.
What we think makes others beware.
Beware who we are on the inside.
Acne is the unfortunate
addition that causes the poor
young soul to lack,
confidence,
self-esteem,
and pride.
Stop.
You are beautiful.
You need to forget.
Acne is on everyone
You have nothing to regret.
So they judge,
so they criticize.
Secretly pointing out the
pink,
scattered,
stand-out surface
on what used to be
a bare and beautiful face.
Stop.
Every face is beautiful,
but never bare.
Stay optimistic in your attitude.
Look them in the eye,
wink,
and smile when they stare.
You're still and will always be you.
Only your heart speaks the truth.
Of how you create and what is part of
who you are.
Whether broken out or not,
you never
stop being
a beautiful, young,
star.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
Because when I was 4, my mom told me that I could not like blue because it was a 'boy' colour.
Because when I was 5, the kids at kindergarten made fun of me for my 'boy' hairstyle.
Because when I was 6, dad refused to buy me a toy car because it is a 'boy' toy. He got me a Barbie doll. 'Good for girls,' he said.
Because when I was 7, my teacher scolded my for my 'boy' handwriting.
Because when I was 8,after a bad fall, my mom lamented that I would never be able to wear a skirt, instead of asking if I was ok.
Because when I was 9 I watched as my relatives mocked my male cousin for cooking. "Leave it to the women" they said.
Because when I was 10, I was told that I ran like a girl. 'But I am a girl', I said. They laughed at my innocence.
Because when I was 11, I was warned my my mother that I would be too fat to be loved. As though his love had to be spread all over my fats.
Because when I was 12, puberty started and the acne set in. It was my mom's worst nightmare.
Because when I was 13, my mom reemphasised that I was too fat to be loved. I felt like ****
Because when I was 14, I starved myself so that I would be beautiful. I did look like a 'proper girl', my parents agreed.
Because when I was 15, the stress of impending national exams got to me and my hair started to fall out. My mom prayed for my soul, and my scalp.
Because when I was 16, in the car 37 minutes ago. My mom scolded me for my acne scars, saying that I was too scarred to ever get a job, or a husband. Most importantly a husband.
Because gender roles affect us all, male or female. Stop labelling people.
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
eat breakfast with your gold spoon
sit in the front seat of your Porsche
arrive at school with your Louis Vuitton bag
make fun of the kid in a wheelchair during break
eat cold lunch and call the lunch lady fat
laugh at the girl with acne on her face
threaten the teacher when she sends you out of class
get picked up in your Porsche
flick off the kid walking home
have friends over and destroy the house
tell your maid to clean it up
eat dinner with your gold fork
admire your sports awards while you brush your teeth
lay in bed and hate yourself
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 1:58 PM UTC
Good girl
*** hair
No way
Not fair
Fat thighs
Nice ***
Acne face
Hourglass
Wonder if that's all they see
No way to know
Is that me?
Chubby cheeks
Button nose
Perfect lips
Hairy toes
Good enough?
All the same
Picture perfect
That's the game
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 8:51 PM UTC