11 step face routine

Retinol on my face smells like vodka rolling on the second sip down- Raw, a bit, but still so intriguing, Unknowing to the way change Will bloom underneath my skin. I touch my cheek the next morning, acne still pebbling my lip line. I haven't quite brushed out the skin flakes littering the end of my bed spread, and my water bottle molds. But fuck it, the skin care collection I've so cafefully curated sprawls my desk amongst the spotty tea mugs, my Amazon copy of Paradise Lost thick with dirty purple scrawl, the divine sewing between the good and the messy overgrowth I never sweep out in time. There's still some- thing here, I think. Maybe the rebirth in me can grow between the stale.