ninestars

The five stages of grief,

except nobody died.

They still flow through me

like he's gone forever,

but does it really matter?

It's not like he knows who I am.

However, he is gone,

forever,

Instead of studying for the test

that I completely forgot about,

that is first period tomorrow morning,

I'm going to write a poem.

Because what else would I do? Study?

Hell no.

Let's be serious here.

I pick at my face

on a daily basis.

Rub my fingers over

my acne scars and oily skin,

every unwanted mark

that supposedly makes 

me beautiful.

I try to convince myself