I was cursed with acne scars that revealed years of wrong that I have done. I cleansed them with my own water and rag in hope that they go away. What I didn't know was that I needed help that I've never asked for. I became a strooge with an addiction of perfection that wasn't there. I fought with the idea of being beautiful with a clear face that reflected the true reason why I never traded in my own wash materials for ones that helped. I was cold to the core, chilled to the bone and picked dry if all my emotions. I tapped out time and time again but went back in rebellion because the scars didn't fade. They became more visible as I tried to keep them away, they adored my face. I was locked out if my body and my mind was weak. I finally have in because I couldn't stand it anymore. Brused, broken, unstable, unclean. Acne scars all over my face, in my mind, on my body and in my souls being me to my knees in a cry for help, for a gentle hand and touch that I needed to stop the fueding in my spine, my safety net was torn and I gave in to selfless service of devoting my life to god. So my acne scars were healed with a graceful plan. It became my non- sin