The blemish on his record was permanent now, he was over 18 and it could not be undone. How was he ever going to live through this, he was a disgrace. As he drove toward the family home, he knew what to do, “hell always wanted to start a new life anyway.” he thought. He reassuringly rested his hand on the .45 Caliber that was riding shotgun and kept driving.
The blemishes of her life covered her face in a matter that was impossible not to notice. Her eyes dark, the rose of her cheeks had turns sallow and the bags under her eyes a deep purple. She carried the mistakes and burdens of her life upon her back, making her a little more slower, a little more bent, a little more bruised than others. When mothers saw her walking towards them on the street, they would cross to the other side and tell their children, “that’s what happens to some people, darling. They let the sadness eat them up.”
And she did. She let it swallow her whole.
Ugh. Another spot, or ‘blemish’ as my mother calls them. I sighed. Another day with a mask of make up over my face. I wish I was as carefree as I was before. Now, all I care about is how I look, and how others portray me. I wish I could go out to the world, no make up, just being me, blemish or no blemish.
I want to be alive, to be free and not care what you think of me. But sadly, this will never be the case. I will always have some sort of guard up, even when alone, whether it’s emotional, physical or anything else.
Without which, beauty is not possible. Beauty is a relative term. Amongst the blind men, a cyclops rules. Amongst apes, a homely girl is a pageantress. And amongst complete and uniform perfection, no one thing is more beautiful than the next. And therefore, a single blemish, a bit of less beauty, causes the beauty of the whole thing.
I looked in the mirror, and saw a blemish on my face, just below my lips. I stared at it. How did it get there? It wasn’t there last night? I looked at my bed. Nothing unusual there. All day I wondered about that annoying blemish. That night I washed my face and it was gone.
I stared in the mirror in disgust. Another one. Another gross pimple on my face. It’s hard to imagine anyone looking at me without cringing. I sigh, cover my face with my hair, and move on. It’s stupid how much the media has me concerned about my looks.
There was not a spot or blemish to be found on this pristene child. How could the Doctors say he was not going to live? They were wrong, that’s all. Dead wrong! And our little Anthony would prove it. I hadn’t thought about their cruel and cold “matter of fact” statements about our beautiful boy for a very long time…until today. I’d best go count the candles to put on that chocolate fudge birthday cake (his favorite) to see if they add up. Eighteen, nineteen…I wonder if Anthony suspects that his friends are all hiding out in the garage to surprise him when he pulls in today? Having a birthday and celebrating his making the Basketball Team All stars on the same day, now that’s what I call a party!
Some have blemishes on their face, scars from battles on the inside of their wrists. Not me. All my blemishes are on the inside. All my blemishes are carefully covered up. Some with coverup. Some with a painted on smile when underneath all i want to do is burst into tears. But i am strong. And i can over come this. Maybe.
An imperfection. Most people refer to it as having to do with acne (which i have plenty of) but others may refer to it as just an imperfection in anything. In work, in art, in thheir life. Some people try to cover it up mine with makeup, but eventually they come out. And once they’re out, who knows what they’re going to do.
princesses aren’t supposed to have pimples. as i cover my face in make-up to get ready for a cinderella birthday party, i notice two big red pimples right in the center of my forehead!
this is me when i am not being true to myself. it is me when i bleed – from the inside, from my heart, and outside. this is a reminder to me to look after myself and to acknowledge my wounding, and the wounds of others. a time to tend to wounds, to love them and dress them carefully – mine and others. we are not human without our blemishes.
“That will certainly be a blemish on his record!”
“You act like you are happy about that!”
“Well, not exactly happy, but he was acting in a conscious manner, and knew that he was very close to crossing professional lines.”
blemish, what a word. there are blemishes on one’s life, physically and mentally and in any other lights because blemishes are what make people’s lives beautiful, i believe.
Blemish is the sixth solo album by David Sylvian. It is experimental in its use of electronics and sound. It features Derek Bailey, an avant-garde guitarist, and Fennesz, a guitarist and electronic music musician. It was released in 2003.
[edit]Track listing
“Blemish” (Sylvian) – 13:42
“The Good Son” (Bailey, Sylvian) – 5:25
“The Only Daughter” (Sylvian) – 5:28
“The Heart Knows Better” (Sylvian) – 7:51
“She Is Not” (Bailey, Sylvian) – 0:45
“Late Night Shopping” (Sylvian) – 2:54
“How Little We Need to Be Happy” (Bailey, Sylvian) – 3:22
“A Fire in the Forest” (Sylvian, Fennesz) – 4:14
“Trauma” (Sylvian) – 5:42 (An instrumental remix of the song “Blemish” featured on the Japanese CD Edition)
[edit]Personnel
Derek Bailey – Guitar
Christian Fennesz – Arranger, Electronics
Yuka Fujii – Art Direction, Design
Atsushi Fukui – Artwork, Cover Art
Toby Hrycek-Robinson – Engineer
David Sylvian – vocals, Producer, Engineer, Mixing
also…
Blemish was a Brazilian alternative rock band active from 1998 to 2004. Stemming from Sao Jose dos Campos, the band’s original lineup consisted of Clovis Tito on vocals/guitars, Daniel Dias on guitar, Ivan Roman on bass and Luis Nonaka on drums.
Contents [hide]
1 History
1.1 Early years
1.2 Major period
1.3 Hiatus and reforming
2 Discography
2.1 Studio albums
3 References
4 External links
[edit]History
[edit]Early years
Associated with grunge rock in their earlier career, Blemish gradually incorporated post-rock and shoegaze elements to its sound. Their first demo tape, Daybreak from 1998 was widely acclaimed in the subterranean world of Brazilian indie rock. [citation needed]
The good results achieved by the demo-tape set the band to play all the major venues in Sao Paulo and was responsible for putting Sao Jose dos Campos on the indie map of Brazil. Such was the marketing buzz generated by it that the band ended up catching the attention of the then London-based Brazilian journalist Luciano Vianna, who soon fell in love with the group. She invited them to record what became the debut cd of the brand new London Burning Records.
[edit]Major period
Two years later, Blemish made its sophomore phonographic appearance with Silver Box Song EP, considered by many music journalists as one of the best albums released in 2000 in Brazil. [citation needed]
Due to conflicting agendas the bassist, Ivan decided to leave the band in late 2001. The tension generated by his exit would ultimately influence drummer Luis Nonaka in his decision to leave the band.[citation needed]
The two members departure would later and once more reshape the band’s soundscape. In 2002 multi-instrumentalist Danilo Sanefuji, and old friend of Daniel, was invited to take over the band’s rhythm section and quickly after his arrival the band released its second EP named King Kong.
Blemish then put together a series of live lineups with Malcolm Fonseca occasionally drumming and Lindemberg Jr., Joao Paulo de Almeida and Andre Dias (from the local band Jerks) taking turns at the bass guitar. They often toured to many nearby cities, as well as Rio de Janeiro, Parana and Rio Grande do Sul and opened for international acts like …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead and Nada Surf. Simultaneously to their intensive gigging the band started recording their first album, for the time called Hermits Cocktail.
Throughout the next two years Blemish would carve for itself a distinctive style by blending dirty sound textures with whistling melodies. That, along with the band’s energetic and emotional live performances would build the band’s reputation and earn them a loyal following in several of Brazil’s states.[citation needed]
[edit]Hiatus and reforming
Despite all the adulation from critics and public[citation needed], the year 2004 found Tito and Daniel exhausted. They were upset with the seemingly endless recording sessions and constant lineup changes, as well as disappointed with Brazilian’s music industry short-sightedness. More than once the band approached well known Brazilian producers who, albeit liking their material, asserted it was economically unfeasible to release English sang songs to a Portuguese speaking audience. [citation needed]
By 2005 Daniel and Tito had moved to London aiming to find new members for the band and finally have the chance pursue their musical careers in a more rewarding environment. Unfortunately their dream would soon be abruptly interrupted by Daniel’s ill health and Hermits Cocktail would remain unreleased.
Daniel returned to Brazil whilst Tito endured alone in London. After a while Tito and Ivan started talking again, amending their broken friendship and that lead to a wish of reworking their material. During Tito’s visits to Brazil in 2008 and 2009 they started re-recording songs, giving them a cutting-edge twist and making them relevant to the present times and to their present selfs. As the band never officially broke up they plan on releasing Blemish’s unheard songs and touring Brazil in 2010.
How is it that any blemish on your skin is only an adornment in my eyes? I look in the mirror and I see every spot and every line and all that is out of place on my body, yet you turn around and call me beautiful. Then I look at you and see your beauty and the wonder that settled over your skin the first time I spoke to you; your perfection astounds me and you tell me I’m beautiful again. It is overwhelming and unbelievable that there is someone to say such things in my life for me. You warm my heart and make me numb with your technical blemishes and your perfection that strays from society’s perfection.
Her face was carved from marble and just as well polished. Her skin was spotless of any pock or scar from her teen years, and her colored cheeks melted into the strand of her auburn hair that fell before her face. She had but one blemish, and that was that she was a dude.
“It’s two days till Senior Prom!” Lisa cried, “My life is ruined!”
“It’s just a blemish, dear.” her mother reassured her from the bottom of the stairs, “We can cover it with concealer.”
“But mom, it’s in the middle of my forehead! And it’s in the shape of Arnold Schwarzeneggar’s spleen!”
“How do you know the shape of Arnold Schwarzeneggar’s spleen?” mom chuckled.
“No, I mean the blemish spells out the words, ‘Arnold Schwarzeneggar’s spleen!’ It’s horrible! Horrible!” Lisa sobbed.
Back in his room, Timmy inaudibly snickered to the point of convulsion as he hid the tattoo needle he’d made in shop class at the bottom of his sock drawer.
“It’s a blemish,” she said, prodding at her face with distaste. “I do hate those.”
“Where?” he replied, gently kissing the spot she was speaking of. “I don’t see any blemishes. I just see you. Perfect in your imperfections.”
it’s a tiny dark spot on your tomato. you want to get rid of it but it’s too late, it’s already been bruised. you’re bruised, with tiny blemishes all over your skin. you try to get rid of them but it never works and all you’re left with is disappointment. this is what you feel and how you will always feel.
Should I use the word unfortunate? I’ve been patient, loyal, professional, and given my true feelings on the matter, kind. I’ve not made a nuisance of myself. I’ve made do, sat tight and waited for the process to process. The process sucked me up, fed me some B. S and spat me out into different day same sh%t. When it offered me another spoonful, I said no. Oh dear, a blemish on my spotless record.
There was a blemish her face. She looked at herself in the mirror and began to pick. No matter how hard she tried it didn’t go away. Her heart rate began to rise, she began to panic. She closed her eyes and when she opened them it was gone.
I stare at myself in the mirror. I hate myself. I hate my face. It’s one huge blemish. I stare endlessly at myself. Me. Who at I am. I can’t take it. I look into my eyes for minutes on end. I can’t see through them to the horrible person inside. They block it all, making sure no one can read me. Know who I am. I scream and ram my palms into the mirror, shattering it. My broken image falls to the floor.
There wasn’t one word said, he just slid his hand over mine. Finally, everything I wanted was coming true. Then the next day happened and I realized the mistake I made was looking over his desperate need for attention and love. I was nothing to him but a place holder. So, there was that blemish in our relationship forever. Me loving him and him loving anyone but me.
hah. What a fitting word.
My face is COVERED in blemishes. Or, craters were blemishes once grew. I hate have zits. Especially ones on the lower half of my face. I murdered them. Squeezed them until there was nothing left to pop.
I’d rather be covered in sore scabs than nasty zits full of pus and junk. *gag*
I like to think it’s just a blemish. I can’t tell what part of my body it belongs to because it touches all over. The chemo has made it’s mark, and it bathes my blood in life saving poison. It’s poisoned what’s left of my life.
Marred and scars upon some sort of substance, be it skin, spirit or an abundance of both. The markings of painful perspiration leaking holes into the surface area show should courage, not shame nor something to hide.
I reached into the bag and discovered the fruit had a blemish. There was little I could do about it, so I cut off the bad parts and made do with my small meal. In the wilderness, it was the best I’d find in the constant snowfall.
A blemish means nothing to someone who sees the beauty within you, I’ll tell my daughter when she’s rushing around screaming MOM!!! I have a pimple! He’s going to think I’m hideous.
the tick of tock, drops- rain. smile leaks ground. “do you see me?” trace the look, sweet in innocence, a nod. “i feel you.” leaves, crunch- gold. “do you.. do you see me?” water, splash, chaos. “i know you.”
It was a blemish on her record, an incident that had happened years ago, but no one would let her forget it. She had been a child, she had made a mistake, and she had grown from it. However, on paper, everything after that blemish was excluded. The world was unforgiving, looking only at who she had once been rather than who she had become.
zits. so annoying. a razor blade…a little bleach. No problem. or. bigger problem. OMG! That stings!
Its imperfect, not quite right, but unique. A secret mark you will not see unless you look closely.
The blemish on his record was permanent now, he was over 18 and it could not be undone. How was he ever going to live through this, he was a disgrace. As he drove toward the family home, he knew what to do, “hell always wanted to start a new life anyway.” he thought. He reassuringly rested his hand on the .45 Caliber that was riding shotgun and kept driving.
The blemishes of her life covered her face in a matter that was impossible not to notice. Her eyes dark, the rose of her cheeks had turns sallow and the bags under her eyes a deep purple. She carried the mistakes and burdens of her life upon her back, making her a little more slower, a little more bent, a little more bruised than others. When mothers saw her walking towards them on the street, they would cross to the other side and tell their children, “that’s what happens to some people, darling. They let the sadness eat them up.”
And she did. She let it swallow her whole.
Ugh. Another spot, or ‘blemish’ as my mother calls them. I sighed. Another day with a mask of make up over my face. I wish I was as carefree as I was before. Now, all I care about is how I look, and how others portray me. I wish I could go out to the world, no make up, just being me, blemish or no blemish.
I want to be alive, to be free and not care what you think of me. But sadly, this will never be the case. I will always have some sort of guard up, even when alone, whether it’s emotional, physical or anything else.
Without which, beauty is not possible. Beauty is a relative term. Amongst the blind men, a cyclops rules. Amongst apes, a homely girl is a pageantress. And amongst complete and uniform perfection, no one thing is more beautiful than the next. And therefore, a single blemish, a bit of less beauty, causes the beauty of the whole thing.
He was a mistake, it seemed.
A blemish on the face of perfection. That’s what he was. He didn’t fit in with anyone. No one.
He was alone. Nothing he did seemed right. He kept making mistakes and causing problems. He didn’t fit in…
He was a mistake, it seemed.
I looked in the mirror, and saw a blemish on my face, just below my lips. I stared at it. How did it get there? It wasn’t there last night? I looked at my bed. Nothing unusual there. All day I wondered about that annoying blemish. That night I washed my face and it was gone.
I stared in the mirror in disgust. Another one. Another gross pimple on my face. It’s hard to imagine anyone looking at me without cringing. I sigh, cover my face with my hair, and move on. It’s stupid how much the media has me concerned about my looks.
There was not a spot or blemish to be found on this pristene child. How could the Doctors say he was not going to live? They were wrong, that’s all. Dead wrong! And our little Anthony would prove it. I hadn’t thought about their cruel and cold “matter of fact” statements about our beautiful boy for a very long time…until today. I’d best go count the candles to put on that chocolate fudge birthday cake (his favorite) to see if they add up. Eighteen, nineteen…I wonder if Anthony suspects that his friends are all hiding out in the garage to surprise him when he pulls in today? Having a birthday and celebrating his making the Basketball Team All stars on the same day, now that’s what I call a party!
Some have blemishes on their face, scars from battles on the inside of their wrists. Not me. All my blemishes are on the inside. All my blemishes are carefully covered up. Some with coverup. Some with a painted on smile when underneath all i want to do is burst into tears. But i am strong. And i can over come this. Maybe.
An imperfection. Most people refer to it as having to do with acne (which i have plenty of) but others may refer to it as just an imperfection in anything. In work, in art, in thheir life. Some people try to cover it up mine with makeup, but eventually they come out. And once they’re out, who knows what they’re going to do.
if i said she didn’t have
blemishes
all over her insides,
i’d be telling
the truth.
and if i said that…
i’d be
lying.
princesses aren’t supposed to have pimples. as i cover my face in make-up to get ready for a cinderella birthday party, i notice two big red pimples right in the center of my forehead!
The cut below her knee
a slit of skin by scraping floorboards
burnt by carpets and rugs
stung her thoughts more than the deed
more than she could need
this is me when i am not being true to myself. it is me when i bleed – from the inside, from my heart, and outside. this is a reminder to me to look after myself and to acknowledge my wounding, and the wounds of others. a time to tend to wounds, to love them and dress them carefully – mine and others. we are not human without our blemishes.
blemish means to make a mark, something like a stain…mainly carries a negative connotation.
Blemishes don’t bother me now, but as a teenager they were devastating.
“That will certainly be a blemish on his record!”
“You act like you are happy about that!”
“Well, not exactly happy, but he was acting in a conscious manner, and knew that he was very close to crossing professional lines.”
no crack in the sky
not a single spot
rift
or crack
and yet, i deny
blemish, what a word. there are blemishes on one’s life, physically and mentally and in any other lights because blemishes are what make people’s lives beautiful, i believe.
Blemish is the sixth solo album by David Sylvian. It is experimental in its use of electronics and sound. It features Derek Bailey, an avant-garde guitarist, and Fennesz, a guitarist and electronic music musician. It was released in 2003.
[edit]Track listing
“Blemish” (Sylvian) – 13:42
“The Good Son” (Bailey, Sylvian) – 5:25
“The Only Daughter” (Sylvian) – 5:28
“The Heart Knows Better” (Sylvian) – 7:51
“She Is Not” (Bailey, Sylvian) – 0:45
“Late Night Shopping” (Sylvian) – 2:54
“How Little We Need to Be Happy” (Bailey, Sylvian) – 3:22
“A Fire in the Forest” (Sylvian, Fennesz) – 4:14
“Trauma” (Sylvian) – 5:42 (An instrumental remix of the song “Blemish” featured on the Japanese CD Edition)
[edit]Personnel
Derek Bailey – Guitar
Christian Fennesz – Arranger, Electronics
Yuka Fujii – Art Direction, Design
Atsushi Fukui – Artwork, Cover Art
Toby Hrycek-Robinson – Engineer
David Sylvian – vocals, Producer, Engineer, Mixing
also…
Blemish was a Brazilian alternative rock band active from 1998 to 2004. Stemming from Sao Jose dos Campos, the band’s original lineup consisted of Clovis Tito on vocals/guitars, Daniel Dias on guitar, Ivan Roman on bass and Luis Nonaka on drums.
Contents [hide]
1 History
1.1 Early years
1.2 Major period
1.3 Hiatus and reforming
2 Discography
2.1 Studio albums
3 References
4 External links
[edit]History
[edit]Early years
Associated with grunge rock in their earlier career, Blemish gradually incorporated post-rock and shoegaze elements to its sound. Their first demo tape, Daybreak from 1998 was widely acclaimed in the subterranean world of Brazilian indie rock. [citation needed]
The good results achieved by the demo-tape set the band to play all the major venues in Sao Paulo and was responsible for putting Sao Jose dos Campos on the indie map of Brazil. Such was the marketing buzz generated by it that the band ended up catching the attention of the then London-based Brazilian journalist Luciano Vianna, who soon fell in love with the group. She invited them to record what became the debut cd of the brand new London Burning Records.
[edit]Major period
Two years later, Blemish made its sophomore phonographic appearance with Silver Box Song EP, considered by many music journalists as one of the best albums released in 2000 in Brazil. [citation needed]
Due to conflicting agendas the bassist, Ivan decided to leave the band in late 2001. The tension generated by his exit would ultimately influence drummer Luis Nonaka in his decision to leave the band.[citation needed]
The two members departure would later and once more reshape the band’s soundscape. In 2002 multi-instrumentalist Danilo Sanefuji, and old friend of Daniel, was invited to take over the band’s rhythm section and quickly after his arrival the band released its second EP named King Kong.
Blemish then put together a series of live lineups with Malcolm Fonseca occasionally drumming and Lindemberg Jr., Joao Paulo de Almeida and Andre Dias (from the local band Jerks) taking turns at the bass guitar. They often toured to many nearby cities, as well as Rio de Janeiro, Parana and Rio Grande do Sul and opened for international acts like …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead and Nada Surf. Simultaneously to their intensive gigging the band started recording their first album, for the time called Hermits Cocktail.
Throughout the next two years Blemish would carve for itself a distinctive style by blending dirty sound textures with whistling melodies. That, along with the band’s energetic and emotional live performances would build the band’s reputation and earn them a loyal following in several of Brazil’s states.[citation needed]
[edit]Hiatus and reforming
Despite all the adulation from critics and public[citation needed], the year 2004 found Tito and Daniel exhausted. They were upset with the seemingly endless recording sessions and constant lineup changes, as well as disappointed with Brazilian’s music industry short-sightedness. More than once the band approached well known Brazilian producers who, albeit liking their material, asserted it was economically unfeasible to release English sang songs to a Portuguese speaking audience. [citation needed]
By 2005 Daniel and Tito had moved to London aiming to find new members for the band and finally have the chance pursue their musical careers in a more rewarding environment. Unfortunately their dream would soon be abruptly interrupted by Daniel’s ill health and Hermits Cocktail would remain unreleased.
Daniel returned to Brazil whilst Tito endured alone in London. After a while Tito and Ivan started talking again, amending their broken friendship and that lead to a wish of reworking their material. During Tito’s visits to Brazil in 2008 and 2009 they started re-recording songs, giving them a cutting-edge twist and making them relevant to the present times and to their present selfs. As the band never officially broke up they plan on releasing Blemish’s unheard songs and touring Brazil in 2010.
also may refer to a minor imperfection :) yayness
lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalallllalalalalalalalaalalalalalalalllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaa
How is it that any blemish on your skin is only an adornment in my eyes? I look in the mirror and I see every spot and every line and all that is out of place on my body, yet you turn around and call me beautiful. Then I look at you and see your beauty and the wonder that settled over your skin the first time I spoke to you; your perfection astounds me and you tell me I’m beautiful again. It is overwhelming and unbelievable that there is someone to say such things in my life for me. You warm my heart and make me numb with your technical blemishes and your perfection that strays from society’s perfection.
Her face was carved from marble and just as well polished. Her skin was spotless of any pock or scar from her teen years, and her colored cheeks melted into the strand of her auburn hair that fell before her face. She had but one blemish, and that was that she was a dude.
“It’s two days till Senior Prom!” Lisa cried, “My life is ruined!”
“It’s just a blemish, dear.” her mother reassured her from the bottom of the stairs, “We can cover it with concealer.”
“But mom, it’s in the middle of my forehead! And it’s in the shape of Arnold Schwarzeneggar’s spleen!”
“How do you know the shape of Arnold Schwarzeneggar’s spleen?” mom chuckled.
“No, I mean the blemish spells out the words, ‘Arnold Schwarzeneggar’s spleen!’ It’s horrible! Horrible!” Lisa sobbed.
Back in his room, Timmy inaudibly snickered to the point of convulsion as he hid the tattoo needle he’d made in shop class at the bottom of his sock drawer.
Blemish. What an irritation? This pink, awkward presence, making itself known by glistening in the light, drawing atten
“It’s a blemish,” she said, prodding at her face with distaste. “I do hate those.”
“Where?” he replied, gently kissing the spot she was speaking of. “I don’t see any blemishes. I just see you. Perfect in your imperfections.”
it’s a tiny dark spot on your tomato. you want to get rid of it but it’s too late, it’s already been bruised. you’re bruised, with tiny blemishes all over your skin. you try to get rid of them but it never works and all you’re left with is disappointment. this is what you feel and how you will always feel.
Should I use the word unfortunate? I’ve been patient, loyal, professional, and given my true feelings on the matter, kind. I’ve not made a nuisance of myself. I’ve made do, sat tight and waited for the process to process. The process sucked me up, fed me some B. S and spat me out into different day same sh%t. When it offered me another spoonful, I said no. Oh dear, a blemish on my spotless record.
There was a blemish her face. She looked at herself in the mirror and began to pick. No matter how hard she tried it didn’t go away. Her heart rate began to rise, she began to panic. She closed her eyes and when she opened them it was gone.
I stare at myself in the mirror. I hate myself. I hate my face. It’s one huge blemish. I stare endlessly at myself. Me. Who at I am. I can’t take it. I look into my eyes for minutes on end. I can’t see through them to the horrible person inside. They block it all, making sure no one can read me. Know who I am. I scream and ram my palms into the mirror, shattering it. My broken image falls to the floor.
There wasn’t one word said, he just slid his hand over mine. Finally, everything I wanted was coming true. Then the next day happened and I realized the mistake I made was looking over his desperate need for attention and love. I was nothing to him but a place holder. So, there was that blemish in our relationship forever. Me loving him and him loving anyone but me.
hah. What a fitting word.
My face is COVERED in blemishes. Or, craters were blemishes once grew. I hate have zits. Especially ones on the lower half of my face. I murdered them. Squeezed them until there was nothing left to pop.
I’d rather be covered in sore scabs than nasty zits full of pus and junk. *gag*
Perfection is so overrated. Embrace your flaws.
I like to think it’s just a blemish. I can’t tell what part of my body it belongs to because it touches all over. The chemo has made it’s mark, and it bathes my blood in life saving poison. It’s poisoned what’s left of my life.
Marred and scars upon some sort of substance, be it skin, spirit or an abundance of both. The markings of painful perspiration leaking holes into the surface area show should courage, not shame nor something to hide.
I reached into the bag and discovered the fruit had a blemish. There was little I could do about it, so I cut off the bad parts and made do with my small meal. In the wilderness, it was the best I’d find in the constant snowfall.
Shelter. I need shelter.
A blemish means nothing to someone who sees the beauty within you, I’ll tell my daughter when she’s rushing around screaming MOM!!! I have a pimple! He’s going to think I’m hideous.
the tick of tock, drops- rain. smile leaks ground. “do you see me?” trace the look, sweet in innocence, a nod. “i feel you.” leaves, crunch- gold. “do you.. do you see me?” water, splash, chaos. “i know you.”
It was a blemish on her record, an incident that had happened years ago, but no one would let her forget it. She had been a child, she had made a mistake, and she had grown from it. However, on paper, everything after that blemish was excluded. The world was unforgiving, looking only at who she had once been rather than who she had become.