Dealing with Psoriasis
Pretty Paper Skin
Flakes falling ever so lightly
People watching so politely
Cheeks blush slightly
When remembered nightly
How long can I survive?
Work and thrive?
Is there somewhere to dive?
To hide or revive?
Meant to be this way
Crumbling like clay
The ideas the mind will play
While still in the mode of decay
Like snowfall is a sin
My skin flakes have been
A comfortable sort of kin
My pretty paper skin
My Skin Sheds
My skin sheds but my sadness does not
My heart hurts from gashes of ugliness
Discouraged from the help I sought
I hide the scars and bloodiness
Do I still want to be married?
Do I still want to work in the public eye?
I keep pressing with feelings buried
I keep saying I will still try
Prayer is my only comfort
Writing is my friend
For junk and hurt
Waiting for a miraculous mend
