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Not About Roaches
A Poem About My Acne
I wrote this poem, Not About Roaches, when I was 14 years old. I stumbled across it while going through old hard drives I recently rediscovered. The poem is about my struggle with acne. I had really bad acne as a teenager that scarred me for life. It’s been thirty-plus years since these words were born into this world, and I still find it hard to read. I wouldn’t have dared to share it with anyone at the time of its writing, but perhaps by sharing it now, I can lay to rest this really depressing period in my life.
Sometimes, healing can only happen when you acknowledge the scars and learn to accept them.
Damn roaches everywhere.
Everywhere I look I see them crawling on me. I go to war with them every night. But no matter how many of them die, they always seem to come back and fight. They haunt me, patronize me, look me straight in the eyes and just laugh. Funny how such little things could change and sometimes ruin your life instantly.
Yesterday I killed one, hey it’s a start. I slammed the broom over its head and squeezed the life out of its tiny little heart. But even after it was dead, with its limbs severed from its body, it still managed to twitch for a few seconds. Then it just went away instantly.
