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Aysha Oct 2017
Constant staring at the mirror every minute till I feel dizzy and my eyes can't carry it out any longer.
Just standing there hoping the zits, dark spots will magically disappear
Each night,It's a daily routine of skin care,pampering the skin with pricey fade out creams, scrubs, even out and Popping doxycycline pills.
Why can't I have the perfect skin like girls my age?
'Just give it a bit of time, they'll go' they always say.
But what ******* time?
I'm tired of hiding it all beneath the foundations and concealers.
Even with makeup, I still feel the need to hide the ******* scars on my face marred by acne.
With these feelings of insecurity and self consciousness
There is a Daily reminder of how ugly and unlucky I am
I can't take it anymore
Acne is a curse.
f Jun 2019
i went to see a psychiatrist last monday in the “avenues” and it was refreshing in a way because she actually listened to me, without making me nervous, which is hard. she asked me simple questions, i told her of the ****** abuse as a child, and the toxicity of my relationship before. she asked how my quality of sleep is, and i said it’s fine but i wake up crying or once i screamed “****** ******”, and i also punched the fan blowing on my face in my sleep because i thought i was being attacked. i have panic attacks after grocery shopping and a phobia of crowds, although i’m really unsafe anywhere, anything could happen is how i feel. (my whole life has felt like i’m on the edge of a cliff) i pick at my face, and sometimes pluck out my hair. embarrassing. but better than when i was a young girl and ******.. on my.. ****** hair... ugh. wow.
anyway she said it sounds like i’m having ptsd symptoms, and that my behavior is very common in people with childhood trauma. she adjusted my meds, now i’m on the highest dose prozac, doxycycline for my face, flexeril, klonopin nightly, and trazadone. oh and birth control. anyway i called out to work one day because the night previous i had had two panic attacks, in my sleep as well. long story short my coworker (i think she’s my friend but i really don’t know to tell you the truth) asked how i was, and i told her everything i just said. she replied with “ptsd from what?”
and my thing is i’ve told her of *** abuse when I was a child, and i’ve told her about my toxic abusive relationship. so i replied with photos i’ve taken over the years of my self harm and explained again the abuse and she never replied. i see her at work and she acts chipper as always and just exactly like my friend/coworker. but the only thing she said to me about the pictures i sent her “are you feeling any better?” as she was getting in her car.
that stung a little bit.
anyway i truly am a crybaby. no sense of direction because i have no sense of urgency. “nothing really matters, anyone can see”
and yet there are days when the sun shines even though it hurts my eyes, and it’s beautiful, the flowers in our front yard are beautiful. i’m grateful for life. maybe the meds are working again, hm?
6 - 24 - 19
Jane Lame Jun 2015
Doxycycline
Tetracycline
Fix my flaw
I want to be free

It doesn't matter
Or so they tell me
Self worth killer
My own worst enemy

Discomfort in a crowd
Pretending it's class
I want to be loud
Hey, look, a mask

Substance crutch
Just one glitch
There's never enough
Got lost in a trip
trixmilk Jun 2020
i’m wasting all your ****
because every time you get high
i blow you like ****
if i bit the tip off
blood stained teeth look so bad
because the braces off
gum problems grinding teeth
crunching on pearls having dreams
of pearly whites falling out like
chuck e. cheese token
wake up startled and you’re not next to me
panic attack paranoia at 3 a.m.
witching hour demon watching through
the window
i am not safe from cherry eyes with the
lamp on because they can see me
staring through the window
spazz out to realization
what’s behind the woods
i take a pretty pill and slither out the window
while laying in my bed
pillow texture heavy but pitter patter crunch grass therapeutic
soar through fence, float over trees
come to the spot
by the lake we sat at on easter
i want to go back to summer
i want to go back to spring
i want to go back to winter
when we were shy for each other
now i can’t look you in the eyes
without twists of guilt and adoration
because we argue too much
i don’t even know how to cry
while you fill up the lake
big brash geese flop down into
this pool of your tears
i brush my hand against your shoulder
to comfort you but you shudder away
from me
like i’m a ghost’s breeze
my heart dips its head and goes
downstairs for a snack
water dispenser don’t work
so my mouth’s dry with toasted air
strained lungs can’t cough up words to say
knowing how to comfort you is a skill i forgot
all i can repeat is i love you
you sob at the side of your house as i flutter to you
butterfly butterfingers
as you slip out of my touch
i’m getting so distant
because the tide is pulling me back
let me say i love you baby
you say “i know you do”
i retract back to my bed
no night’s sleep stuck in a trip
doxycycline ***** cycle
you witnessed eight times
in one night
and you comforted me
i miss when we took care of each other
cycling through our memories
i want to pedal to you
but i don’t know how to ride a bike
told your pappy i ran over my mom with
purple disney princess bike when i was six
you let me in your home
built up on swiss cheese drywall
basically an old married couple at sixteen
waking up in (y)our bed together
naked planning for our baby in ten years
please let me cross this imaginary line
and run into your arms
our bodies were crafted from fire and amniotic fluid for the sheer purpose
of holding each other
the nook of your neck and shoulder
and the cranny of my hips
we come together like puzzle pieces
please don’t swipe me off the table
i want to fit with you

— The End —