Full of fears.

I hate it that when I’m all alone in my room, thoughts filled up in my mind and rears rolled down from my cheeks. It sounds like something that’s so not me. Sick of pretending that I’m okay because I’m really not. Why whatever skin issues have to come to me? Acne vitiligo and now what? Abrasee? I forgot what’s the name it’s called but I’m just sick of my face. It’s not going to heal isn’t it? Is god giving me a test so that I don’t judge people with their looks? I made my dad worry about me again. I made my mum worry about me again. I made people around me worry again.

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