I pick at my skin

on a daily basis.

Rub my finger over

my acne scars and oily skin,

trying to convince myself

I'm this "imperfect slice of perfection"

all these influencers

claim I am.

Restrain the roaring voices 

to prevent the foreseeable fights 

filled with rage and hatred 

that could permanently appall 

the people of this world. 

Lips must sculpt more smiles, 

I come here to

express myself

semi-anonymously,

but freely

and happily.

My laptop is

bombarded with

tabs, one of which

is YWP.

Always.

I may not

write a poem