Like a zit on the skin, you never came to stay,
Prowled your way into mine, looking for easy prey.
A land so clear–untouched–nothing stood in your way.
You tip-toed to my world and knocked my breath away.
Marked yourself on my skin; put yourself on display.
You dug your feet so deep; claimed me to my dismay.
I altered my routine; shared my home by all means.
I nourished and nurtured; attained to all your needs.
I approached with caution; walked around on eggshells.
Mollified your temper—your tactless intentions.
Turned a blind eye on you: your lethal existence.
Unbeknownst to me, you'd grown to be noxious.
Somewhere along the way, you became a burden.
Too heavy to carry, too congested to drain.
Having had my limit, I goaded you to run.
Poked you a bit too hard; I messed with your lifespan.
How could I have known that you'd have the last say?
That you'd refuse to let go just like stubborn acne?
That you would cause a scene, create a matinee?
That you'd need a riot before you walked away?
Here I am in your wake, unmaking what you made
Decorating my skin with a medicated band-aid.
Blemishes, I'm left with, memories that won't fade.
Darker spot to conceal; more emotions to hide.
27 full days, I'll wait in agony.
For my whole skin to shed and rid your marks off of me.
So, take the scab that you made as your sweet souvenir.
Strike a pose, fake a smile, a picture with your kill.
Wave it around the world: hang it up on your wall.
Easy come, easy go,
like the good old pimple.
**********************
A/N- This is one of my favorite poems I've ever written simply because of the backstory. Get this: I was minding my business, scrolling through my Instagram when this guy I went to Highschool with messaged me. I'm very suspicious of men and people in general, especially when they contact me on social media because I've been burned before. (Cough, I went and fell in love with this one boy I went to Middle school with when he messaged me on FB... yeah, there's a pattern there.) But anyway, I was chronically single and lonely because I had just moved into a new city, so I talked to him. Unsurprisingly, we hit it off. He was funny and gave me the right attention and it felt like we were going somewhere. (We even planned on a vacation where he'd come and see me.) Fast forward to give or take a month later: he's gone. Poof. Just like that. He made a lame excuse, saying he's too attached to me and needs to work on himself. He can't handle the distance, yadda, yadda, yadda. Was I hurt? Nah, men come and go all the dang time. Was I upset though? Heck yes! I was so upset that after completing the cringe conversation with him; I deleted our text thread and sat on my bed, and wrote this poem. In one sitting. 🤪
The idea came to me because I had gotten this one zit on my cheek right around the time we started speaking. It was one of those stubborn, painful pimples that refused to go away and kept getting red and inflamed. It stayed on my skin for almost a month and the day Mr. I'm-too-attached-to-you-so-we-need-to-stop-speaking–for the lack of a better word–dumped me, the stupid zit was almost gone. What was left of it was a scab. So, I said, "Hmm, this whatevership had a lifespan of a pimple." And voila! This was made. 😅😅
