There are blotches of water spots all over my clothes. They cling my jeans to my skin through three layers of undergarments and my hands freeze through the thin fabric of my gloves. The cheeks of the people around me are rosy and raw and the cold is made up for with cups of hot cocoa waiting in the kitchen, steam rising invitingly upward.
Blotches are everywhere in life. Sometimes they are on a shirt and it just magically appeared there or sometimes they are on your face from years of sunbathing. Either way they are apart of life. They can either be good or bad….Tis life.
The young girl at the back of the class had large, red blotches all across her face. Her fellow students couldn’t help but wonder where the blotches came from. Was this girl some sort of mutant alien or perhaps small pox had returned to the West?
Blotches…well…my mirror lies to me sometimes, early in the morning, when I am not quite awake yet…venturing a glance in the mirror, hoping for the best but instead…seeing blotches where my once, young, shining face use to be looking back.
blotches on skin red and pink and green not green but i said green blotches of ink like ink spots the psychiatrists do blotches blotches blotches rhymes with swatches of fabric blotches of ink on swatches of fabric some weird art project that intrigues me but i pass by blotches botched and forgotten
Al over his face. HIs coughs were getting worse, but I had no money to help him.
It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve to get sick and he was so so sick. I didn’t want to reach my hand out in fear of
blotches are on skin. blotches are colors in the sky. blotches are blotchy. they are everywhere. blotches on a paint pallet. blotches on a window you tried to clean but got frustrated and stopped. blotches from crying. blotches from children’s dirty fingers on the table. blotches are messes. messes are life. life is a mess. a beautiful mess. beautiful blotches.
blotches are blotches. the word blotches is awkward but it is indeed a word in the dictionary. i have to get more use of the word blotches. b in blotches is for blotches. the l in it if for love, love of blotches.
My skin has always had blotches. I’ve been envious of those women with pale, porcline skin, who had clean complexions, who had skin that was matte. I always find myself staring at women, not because they are lovely, but from a jealousy, and desire to have skin without blotches.
she had red blotches on her cheeks which brightened when she was angry or embarrassed. particularly when she was humiliated. She took things so hard, like the way Mrs. Crowe told her she shouldn’t throw away her plastic bags.
all over her legs
bruises, splotches
violent blotches
and all she can say is
she got them from a bed
she says
she’s losing her head
she says
and i just wanna help
but i feel myself losing
i just want her
beautiful happy free
no blotches or splotches to see
As her anger rose to new levels, and the words in her head swirled faster than a tornado, red blotches appeared on the apples of her cheeks. The boy in front of her stepped back, but not in time to miss the slap.
Blotches is a very interesting word because I have no clue what it means. I think it means like bunches. I am not a smart person and have no clue. I should read more.
Blotches
Everywhere
Imperfections
Everywhere
Pepperoni on my pizza face
Everywhere
Six layers of foundation
Everywhere
Gotta fix it
Everywhere
Please find me beautiful,
Everywhere
i never broke out when i was a teenager. when i was around 22, my face broke out in gross blotches. i thought i had made it, and would never have acne. turns out i was wrong.
after the passion had subsided, the sheets were rearranged, the room put back together, all that was left of their moment of weakness were the matching red blotches that bloomed on their cheeks.
blotches are like drips of paint that fall to the earth in forms of obscurity. blotches blank out the sun and dry out the moon. blotches form inconspicuously until they fall onto paper to be scrutinized.
What do you think your doing with that dish cloth ? Yelling at this twit who thinks
you can dab a wash cloth with soap to clean up the blotches of wine on the silk
dress of the Brides dress, save me from imbeciles .
Blotches, like my nose gets blotchy, my whole face, in fact, when I cry. Cried today, but it was a short cry. I’m tired again. But I want to work. Blotches are mistakes but they are part of it.
They shone in the light, pale blue, paler than his icy stare which regarded her now with indifference. Each of his cheeks was covered in them; but what they were she wasn’t entirely sure. They were similar to scales, but not; and resembled bark, but was not that, either. It was puzzling, and yet… strangely beautiful.
I don’t know. I’m just somewhere between scared and angry and I don’t know which. If things are getting better, then why are there all of these blotches in my life, staining me?
Blotches of me and you from a fountain pen
on white, off-white.
undefined and unacknowledged
almost circles
left undone.
little known, little to be known.
imperfection covering blissful space.
I used to have blotches all over my skin, so my doctor gave me some medicine to put on them. Every night I used my medicine but to my dismay I found that one morning I woke to my skin being colored in purple blotches!! I decided to cut everything purple out of my diet, but that didn’t work. I saw every doctor I could find. But no one knew what was wrong! One day I ate some grape jelly, and to my surprise… the blotches went away!
The ocean is but a big blotch
Made up of smaller ones
We are a small blotch
In the middle of an ocean
An ocean of voices, of noise, of life
Of the hustle and bustle of the city
Who is the biggest blotch?
Really?
Is it the ocean-
Or you?
The freckles on my arms were growing and growing. I had to accept the fact that though I may not be dying, I was aging and the blotches on my skin were like badges of the years behind me.
Her cheeks were blotched from running. No matter who you were, 5 miles at a sprint will get to you. Yes, even if you are a genetically modified test subject born in a test tube. Even if you are only 35% human.
her skin was covered. They started small then got bigger and bigger . They multiplied until her whole body was covered, in one enormousness blotch. “whats happening to me?”
I looked at the paint blotches on each cardboard slab the doctor held before me. Blots. Smudges. Strategically-placed spots of ink. Whatever the heck I’m supposed to be referring to them as. I looked at each one and saw what I saw, but I also saw what I was supposed to see, if that makes sense.
The blue blotches of ink smeared across the hands and fingers. Joints had new colors and knuckles stamped out blue periods. You know the way you look at me makes me wonder about pens and how you could never tell a pen what to do.
Blotches overwhelmed the sky. He did not understand why they were there, nor did he care to understand. There were simply blotches. In the sky. He found that he’d be okay with that, if only he understood them. He carried on with life, despite the blotches.
There are blotches of water spots all over my clothes. They cling my jeans to my skin through three layers of undergarments and my hands freeze through the thin fabric of my gloves. The cheeks of the people around me are rosy and raw and the cold is made up for with cups of hot cocoa waiting in the kitchen, steam rising invitingly upward.
Blotches are everywhere in life. Sometimes they are on a shirt and it just magically appeared there or sometimes they are on your face from years of sunbathing. Either way they are apart of life. They can either be good or bad….Tis life.
The young girl at the back of the class had large, red blotches all across her face. Her fellow students couldn’t help but wonder where the blotches came from. Was this girl some sort of mutant alien or perhaps small pox had returned to the West?
blotches are the spots on an elderly womans body, who is so old, sunscreen hadnt even been invented yet.
Blotches…well…my mirror lies to me sometimes, early in the morning, when I am not quite awake yet…venturing a glance in the mirror, hoping for the best but instead…seeing blotches where my once, young, shining face use to be looking back.
icky, red
everywhere
blotches scotch tape
everything needs to go away
blothches, ink, escape
redness encroaching everyday
blotches
watches
ticking away
tick tick
blitch blotch
tick tick today
blotches on skin red and pink and green not green but i said green blotches of ink like ink spots the psychiatrists do blotches blotches blotches rhymes with swatches of fabric blotches of ink on swatches of fabric some weird art project that intrigues me but i pass by blotches botched and forgotten
red blotches on your cheeks
you’re scary when you’re angry
Al over his face. HIs coughs were getting worse, but I had no money to help him.
It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve to get sick and he was so so sick. I didn’t want to reach my hand out in fear of
blotches are on skin. blotches are colors in the sky. blotches are blotchy. they are everywhere. blotches on a paint pallet. blotches on a window you tried to clean but got frustrated and stopped. blotches from crying. blotches from children’s dirty fingers on the table. blotches are messes. messes are life. life is a mess. a beautiful mess. beautiful blotches.
blotches are blotches. the word blotches is awkward but it is indeed a word in the dictionary. i have to get more use of the word blotches. b in blotches is for blotches. the l in it if for love, love of blotches.
My skin has always had blotches. I’ve been envious of those women with pale, porcline skin, who had clean complexions, who had skin that was matte. I always find myself staring at women, not because they are lovely, but from a jealousy, and desire to have skin without blotches.
she had red blotches on her cheeks which brightened when she was angry or embarrassed. particularly when she was humiliated. She took things so hard, like the way Mrs. Crowe told her she shouldn’t throw away her plastic bags.
all over her legs
bruises, splotches
violent blotches
and all she can say is
she got them from a bed
she says
she’s losing her head
she says
and i just wanna help
but i feel myself losing
i just want her
beautiful happy free
no blotches or splotches to see
When I think of blotches I think of my AP art class and all the blotches of paint that were impossible to get out of my hair and off my face.
As her anger rose to new levels, and the words in her head swirled faster than a tornado, red blotches appeared on the apples of her cheeks. The boy in front of her stepped back, but not in time to miss the slap.
Blotches is a very interesting word because I have no clue what it means. I think it means like bunches. I am not a smart person and have no clue. I should read more.
I picked up my shirt today and saw three white blotches spread out underneath the collar, each one touching the next. I don’t have bleach… What do?
patches
bleach on jeans
paint
splatter
ugly dog
spots
chicken pox.
Blotches
Everywhere
Imperfections
Everywhere
Pepperoni on my pizza face
Everywhere
Six layers of foundation
Everywhere
Gotta fix it
Everywhere
Please find me beautiful,
Everywhere
Her face is covered in them as he walks away. It’s over, and she cover it up anymore.
i never broke out when i was a teenager. when i was around 22, my face broke out in gross blotches. i thought i had made it, and would never have acne. turns out i was wrong.
after the passion had subsided, the sheets were rearranged, the room put back together, all that was left of their moment of weakness were the matching red blotches that bloomed on their cheeks.
blotches are like drips of paint that fall to the earth in forms of obscurity. blotches blank out the sun and dry out the moon. blotches form inconspicuously until they fall onto paper to be scrutinized.
Road rash – remnants of my skateboarding days. Blotches of pink and red, distorted skin. My scars which I’ll never forget.
What do you think your doing with that dish cloth ? Yelling at this twit who thinks
you can dab a wash cloth with soap to clean up the blotches of wine on the silk
dress of the Brides dress, save me from imbeciles .
Blotches, like my nose gets blotchy, my whole face, in fact, when I cry. Cried today, but it was a short cry. I’m tired again. But I want to work. Blotches are mistakes but they are part of it.
They shone in the light, pale blue, paler than his icy stare which regarded her now with indifference. Each of his cheeks was covered in them; but what they were she wasn’t entirely sure. They were similar to scales, but not; and resembled bark, but was not that, either. It was puzzling, and yet… strangely beautiful.
I don’t know. I’m just somewhere between scared and angry and I don’t know which. If things are getting better, then why are there all of these blotches in my life, staining me?
Blotches of me and you from a fountain pen
on white, off-white.
undefined and unacknowledged
almost circles
left undone.
little known, little to be known.
imperfection covering blissful space.
I used to have blotches all over my skin, so my doctor gave me some medicine to put on them. Every night I used my medicine but to my dismay I found that one morning I woke to my skin being colored in purple blotches!! I decided to cut everything purple out of my diet, but that didn’t work. I saw every doctor I could find. But no one knew what was wrong! One day I ate some grape jelly, and to my surprise… the blotches went away!
The ocean is but a big blotch
Made up of smaller ones
We are a small blotch
In the middle of an ocean
An ocean of voices, of noise, of life
Of the hustle and bustle of the city
Who is the biggest blotch?
Really?
Is it the ocean-
Or you?
The freckles on my arms were growing and growing. I had to accept the fact that though I may not be dying, I was aging and the blotches on my skin were like badges of the years behind me.
Her cheeks were blotched from running. No matter who you were, 5 miles at a sprint will get to you. Yes, even if you are a genetically modified test subject born in a test tube. Even if you are only 35% human.
blotches formed from her tears as they dripped onto her polka dot blouse. She wiped her brown eyes, sniffling and trying to hold her chin up.
her skin was covered. They started small then got bigger and bigger . They multiplied until her whole body was covered, in one enormousness blotch. “whats happening to me?”
I looked at the paint blotches on each cardboard slab the doctor held before me. Blots. Smudges. Strategically-placed spots of ink. Whatever the heck I’m supposed to be referring to them as. I looked at each one and saw what I saw, but I also saw what I was supposed to see, if that makes sense.
The blue blotches of ink smeared across the hands and fingers. Joints had new colors and knuckles stamped out blue periods. You know the way you look at me makes me wonder about pens and how you could never tell a pen what to do.
Blotches overwhelmed the sky. He did not understand why they were there, nor did he care to understand. There were simply blotches. In the sky. He found that he’d be okay with that, if only he understood them. He carried on with life, despite the blotches.