PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Zits


The mirror stands before me

after four years.

Finally I can rid myself

and make my skin clear.

 

Pop!

There goes my first "F."

I cringe and I make

noises not found on any clef.

 

Plop!

There goes my first crush.

They made an exceptional mess.

Now lets cover that bruise with white fluff.

 

Squish!

There are the tears

from making new frenemies

and discovering your fears.

 

Crimp!

Zult!

Plsst!

Bop!

 

My dermatologist should be sued.

 

Finally, I can look at me

Myself

I.

 

It is weird having no zits.

So weird.

Did I lose different bits?

Bits of myself?

Who knows?

I'm okay

I still have more primping

to do anyway.

 

 

 

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.