Why I'm Always Looking Down

Please rate and critique. This was pretty spontaneous.

I’m surrounded by zits

there’s spackled zits on my ceiling when I wake up

sugar and coffee must be an old alchemist recipe for pus

because I can’t stomach the stuff.

I walked to the store and came home limping

I peeled of my canvas shoes and sat in horror

as oil and blood acted as an organic superglue for the sock.

So, like anyone in my predicament,

I put my shoe back on. 

I can’t go out to eat without thinking of zits.

orders of breaded pores and chicken oil from McDondalds.

I just can’t stand them anymore. 

It’s almost personal, 

they reach deep up inside my thighs -

the zits - not the chicken oil 

trust me, they are zits. 

But now I am a more selective underwear consumer 

which does have it’s unintended benefits. 

There’s brown zits in the toilet bowl,

scum pimples in the bathtub.

there’s no limit. 

Even the mirror’s a pizza face. 

and now I’m having trouble 

with if this story is 

self centred 

or 

oil absorbed. 

The End

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