Ugly

I am captivated by ugliness. I see it everywhere.
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Even on my face.
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I pop the new pimples that form. I know they’ll leave scars.
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I always pop them.
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I hate the scars. I want to be pretty. I tell myself that I need to stop.
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I always pop them.
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Sometimes they bleed. they bleed they bleed
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I always pop them.
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But I have to go out now.
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I have to stop the bleeding. People can’t see me like this.
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**They can’t know how ugly I am.**

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Pt.2

I am like a deformed dog in an open cage.
Abandoned by its owner.
There are no toys. There is no food.
And I’m tired.
I think I want to stay inside.
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But I have to go out now.
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I am a pale thing who figured out the basement door.
Curious what the world is like.
Disappointing. The sun hurts.
And it’s ugly too.
I know I want to stay inside.
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But I have to go out now.
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And I’m scared.
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**They will see how ugly I am.**
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I am a rat slowly crawling out of the sewer.
Covered in sludge. Ever wiping.
But it won’t come off.
My skin stays on.
It’s a bastard that way.