bleed

i wipe the makeup off my face 

hastily

like i’ve got places to be

like the world is racing me

and i catch

the spots on my cheeks

they bleed

i never had spots as a teen

and my friends voiced their jealousy

but i hit twenty

and they began blossoming on skin

“from all the stress within”, my mother says 

and i have to agree

these last couple of years

have really tested me

the weight of responsibility 

makes it hard to breathe

but i am here

bleeding

literally

blood seeping from my pores 

even though i’m scared of life

i still want more

and i think i exist

to create 

to make my pen kiss the page

to make a mosaic out of rage

and each time i do

i become a little more like God

i have made something

it is messy

and uncertain

but i have created 

i am messy

and uncertain

blood-stained cheeks

and stubborn mascara 

but i am alive 

i never felt hope as a teen

but i hit twenty

and hope started blossoming

“from the lessons stored within”, i say

i am alive

and one day

these hands will feel like mine. 

16:49pm - 18/06/25