|By BeznosovAF on Saturday, March 02, 2019 - 07:24 pm:|
|By Ginny on Saturday, July 07, 2012 - 09:32 pm:|
The itch is excruciating
It takes over my brain
My skin is tearing
The only relief is the pain.
Red and sore
hot as Mordor
I canít take any more
My eyes are all dry and puffy
And my legs are inflamed
I feel so ashamed
I itch and I scratch
I scratch all day long
the irritation is persistent
and I know that itís wrong
It prickles and stings
all day and all night
Iíve tried all solutions
but no help is in sight
Chinese remedies and herbal potions
Steroids, creams, ointments,
antibiotics and random notions
When they tell me to stop it starts a fight
They complain about one measly bug bite
If only they knew the emotions I was concealing
If only they knew the emotions I wasnít revealing
On a never ending journey towards healing
Can't go out in case people laugh
'It is more than just a rash
At the pool kids parents drag them away
Getting questioned almost every single day
I dream of soft skin
Velvet smooth and silky
of waking in comfort
a perfect brand new me
|By Auth on Tuesday, June 05, 2012 - 08:52 am:|
Usually humidity helps those suriffeng from eczema.However, there are other factors that might have triggered it, such as -stress (yes, traveling can cause stress on the body even if you don't feel it)-whether it was windy where you were staying (it can be humid and windy near the coastline)-whether the heat caused the beginnings of heat rash , which can make eczema flare.-whether you had to use sunscreen or anything else on your skin that could have triggered it.-whether you went swimming or engaged in unusual activity that caused a lot of sweat (sweat contains salt, the sweat evaporates, the salt remains on your skin, and can be an irritant)So, back to the cortisone cream alternative treatment and keep well-hydrated. That works for me, too!
|By nani on Friday, May 25, 2012 - 08:55 am:|
Pain in the shower
I have so much more to offer
A mother a musician a great daughter
Its like a whole scab now covers my face
No time for rest
I wish to dance and run and play
But i just scratch the day away
This itch this itch
I am a scratching fiend
Till it hurts and seeps
And cracks and bleeds
Ill just stay inside uncomfortably
So the beautiful will never
Have to see me.
I try with might to stay positive
But how could you
If you looked like this
More cream more cream
They prescribe and prescribe
But it never goes.
Eat this not this
Eat more of these
Your allergic to meat
Wait no wool
Maybe its the trees.
Maybe im allergic to oxygen
Cause everywhere i go it never ends.
But i will never give up this fight.
I will sieze the days
I will own the night
I will rid myself of this disease
I will wear bathing suits out on the beach
I will shop for groceries not flaking one flake
No matter how much hard work and dedication it takes
I will wear beautiful makeup for a night on the town
And not once run to the bathroom
To scratch under my gown.
I will not give up
I promise you I will be saved
And that you too will never give up
I will always pray.
|By Auth on Sunday, April 22, 2012 - 04:28 pm:|
Maybe you can put socks on her hands My mom used to do that to me. Or tell her to scratch once, and stop and see if it heepld. Or tell her to try rubbing it or slapping it lightly instead. Or think of a code word? Not sure, good luck!
|By FedUpHelen on Monday, January 17, 2011 - 07:25 pm:|
Eczema makes me want to rip off my skin
It doesn't look like me, where do I begin?
The pain isn't really the worst bit
I feel like my confidence has taken a hit
I feel sick I want to cry
Sometimes I even want to die
Doctor's don't care or understand
It ruins my life and disrupts my plans
It takes over and it rules me
Makes me a prisoner and controls me
I want to rip my skin right off
Can't go out in case people laugh
'It's just a rash - put some cream on'
I want my skin back, I may as well dream on
Everyone else looks perfect to me
When they look at me, what do they see?
A flaky, red and blotchy face
I want to go back to my hiding place
Don't want to look at my reflection
This is turning into an obsession
In the mirror - she isn't me
I don't feel like the person I see
|By angel17 on Friday, August 20, 2010 - 07:09 pm:|
how i wish i was like the rest with eczema i'll never be the best
i thought i was the only one who felt this way
felt like crying and running away
but its not just me
im not the only one who wants to feel free
not wearing jeans and a hoodie
but wearing shorts and feeling really ... goodie
maybe one day they'll be a special cure then none of us will have eczema anymore
|By SM on Thursday, August 05, 2010 - 12:29 am:|
This doesnt rhyme its just how i really feel
What has happened to us in this place
Everyone has seemed to move on but me
As always Iím left in the dark
As they all move on with their lives
They donít see what Iíve turned into but
No one does as if this is normal
This thing called
They say its damages you physically but it does far worse mental damage
Its scars you deep down and the worst thing is
Only you feel it because if you begin to describe it
Their so wrapped up in their day to day lives they forget the simplicities of it all
Being able to act your age
Being able to walk down the street without the stares
Or even people wanting to touch you
Yes they all forgot
And these are the people who are my so called
But then you start to wonder if you weren`t here
But that would mean going off to a place worse than this
I`m just going to have to wait till my time is up
Then hopefully Iíll have a fair chance of pure happiness
But then there is that handful of people who make you
Feel special, normal in fact
Note: these aren`t people that share my blood
When I tried to tell my mother in a letter
I was told it was my fault but whose fault is it
Because it certainly isnít mine
But then again no one cares about this stuff do they
|By Scratchy on Tuesday, June 22, 2010 - 09:38 pm:|
I just found this site today and loved what everyone has wrote! I wrote this poem this afternoon, I never wrote a poem before so forgive me if it sucks
Living with eczema has been a battle I have fought all my life. I am a 32 year old woman with chronic topical eczemaÖ..
Getting up in the morning with blood under my nails
Makes it hard not to think you failed
I want to grab the knife and just cut the stuff out with a blade
Hoping the eczema spots would soon then fade
I would pray to God to PLEASE take this away
But every day it would be there like a lost friend coming back to stay
Every day the pain is a little harder to bear
When all you wish for is a doctor to care
I can no longer bend my fingers due to the cracking and bleeding
There must be something Iím still needing
Vitamins, medications, creams, special soaps, keep them all!
They do no good and just keep accumulating in my hall
My feet have started blistering too
What in the world is a person to do?
You must work to pay the bills
So toughen up and try to chillÖÖ according to my Uncle Bill
Driving which should be such a simple task
But for me I must put on a painful mask
No one must know the secret I keep
With having eczema on my feet
From head to foot I am covered in scars
But the ones that hurt the most are inside by far
|By Sosadinmyskin on Wednesday, April 28, 2010 - 09:08 am:|
It so sad knowing that there are so many people trying to find the cure to hiv but they completly forgot about EZCEMA..!!!
|By Elinor on Wednesday, April 07, 2010 - 02:26 am:|
It's fustrating that I can't fit everything I feel about eczema in a poem. But I think everyone who's written poems here have summerised it beautifully. I have great repect for everyone who has eczema and kept sane. It messes up your mind as much as it messes up your skin. Personally, I hate how lonely it is because people keep on belittling me - thinking that I'm deep in self-pity and exaggerating. I find it so hard to explain the mess that's in my head. I just want to be free from this enormous restricion. I'm only fifteen and I feel like I'm missing out on my 'adolescence'. Nobody knows my deepest feelings of fear and hatred of this life - it's such a contrast from my normal happy, fun personality that I seem to be seeing less and less of... I wish I was strong enough to fight off these thoughts because I hate the idea of coming across of as a selfish kid who thinks my feelings are so much more important than anyone elses. It's wrong. I don't think that at all. Anyway, I'm rambling but everyone needs to 'vent' sometimes! I'm sorry it's not a poem but there are some truly amazing pieces here so thanks to everyone who's posted something - you're inspirations.
|By sustained scratch on Saturday, March 27, 2010 - 05:44 am:|
i am no poet but i will try to explain how i feel in somthing that rhymes...
the first time i looked in her eyes,
i thought that she was the one for me,
demons lurked beneath my thighs,
who would had known they would come for me,
two weeks after she met me,
i told her i had eczema,
she said she found it sexy,
my feelings got more keener,
three months gone and were living toghther,
drinking beers and smoking weed,
i want to be with this girl forever,
she is my all, all i need,
its only on the back of my legs,
this is somthing i can handle,
what lays ahead is doom and dread,
fuse is burning like a candle,
six months gone and im at work,
skin on my shoes looks like dust,
constant itching pain and hurt,
diddnt know it would spread this much,
one year passed and now shes pregnant,
this feels like im living a dream,
demons connolised multiple sections,
both of my arms and under my jeans,
time has passed and now shes due,
soothing feelings when i soak,
excited for baby boo,
no shampoo no gel no soap,
now its getting hard to hide,
her tolerance is wearing thin,
new friends on my neck and side,
when will they just pack it in,
in my room on xbox live,
raging pain prohibits walking,
for my son i cant provide,
me and her are barely talking,
existing is constant pain,
now my love is trying to leave me,
trying to adjust but going insane,
i would if i could please believe me,
now shes gone and now im lonley,
broken body, broken heart,
nowadays she dosent phone me,
endless tunnel, gloom and dark,
sorry about the length of the poem, just had to get it off my chest... 24yr old working (finally) london man...
please feel free to msg me, even just to say hi...
|By pinky on Sunday, March 21, 2010 - 02:56 pm:|
I get so suprised, when I see those eczema eyes.
|By Nunya on Tuesday, December 29, 2009 - 07:49 pm:|
I itch, I scratch
I scratch, I itch
My skin peels then bleeds
Healing potions are at the top of my needs
I see you staring
Is that a look of disgust? A look of disgrace?
Stop scratching and tearing.
Hahaha I wasn't blessed with that grace.
But then there are those others who tell me to get over it.
Iv'e tried that and it just got worse itch by itch.
I itch I scratch,
I scratch I bleed.
Can you see what I see?
|By Redhands on Thursday, July 09, 2009 - 08:18 pm:|
Little Itching Thrill
I don't want to be seen, by people who are seen to be fine
I don't want to bleed, but I do at the night time
My little itching thrill gives me what I need
No special doctors pill will let this curse concede
I know that mirrors tell no lies
Just like the look in people's eyes
When the skin is torn apart
The pain will not depart
I don't think I can.
Rips on my hands,
how can I stop that?
Hydrated skin cells please kick in and help me
I need to be scratching, of that I'm guilty
I scratch the skin
I see the break down of the outside
I know I'll give in
Think I might just stay inside
|By Dead J on Monday, June 29, 2009 - 12:12 pm:|
'HYDROCORTIZONE LIFESTYLES OF THE POOR & NAMELESS'
Eczema, what an ugly name,
To us, the infected, it brings us shame.
A cure? I think you must be dreaming,
Think of Martin Luther as you rub the cream in.
Triumph over adversity? What a novel idea,
How about burning raw & red, instead of smooth and clear?
Upshot is they say ''it comes & go's''
Reality is nobody knows.
See me, but don't point or stare,
Heel me, let my body repair.
I ask you for patients & grace,
Burn yourself, maybe you'll have a taste.
''Accept yourself'' is what you ask me to do,
I've done that, it didn't work but thank you.
Boiling hot water brings the rush then the pain,
I know it's not worth it but I'll do it again.
Peel, rip, tear & scratch
Doctors know they can't stop that.
Apply, sooth, cool & calm
Covered neck, knees, hands & arms
Always aware of others around me,
Oh look, another inflammatory reaction's found me.
I know why oh why I can't sleep at night,
Because I scratch, rub & rip till my need subsides.
|By sig on Friday, November 28, 2008 - 01:08 pm:|
This skin entraps me in a tomb
I'm peering out from the inside
I see people much like myself in every other way
Except they're living a full life
Doctors tell me they can cure it
Take this tablet 3 times a day
And just stop scratching, you're making it worse
Then everything should be ok
But they don't know what it feels like
To be walking down the street
And have people pointing and staring
'What's wrong with her?' 'She looks like a freak!'
I really hope a cure is found
To eradicate this ugly sight
And to free me from the chains I am bound
So I can finally sleep at night.
|By Scratchetywitch21 on Wednesday, November 07, 2007 - 10:34 pm:|
I Hate itching, but
I Love scratching
I hate scabs, but
I love pickin em
I hate it when it flares, but
I love it when it heals.
I hate it when they stare, but
I love to set them straight.
I hate to suffer, but
I love the relief when the itching stops, however brief.
I hate the dreaded E word, it makes me itch just thinking, but
I love the strength and courage I see,
in others and in me.
|By JayBC123 on Thursday, August 02, 2007 - 03:42 am:|
People staring at my bright red infection,
People lookin at me like i should be sectioned,
But my friends had my back not starin, treatin me like me,
But strangers starin in disgust, the pain they could not see,
I've now pulled through and people now want to be my mate,
But when my skin was red raw all i felt was hate,
So depressed wasn't happy, thought i was about to break,
People thinking my morale and confidence was theirs to take,
But i fought through and now im clear.
Thank Fuck For That
|By MC on Thursday, June 28, 2007 - 08:04 am:|
The itch everytime,
The burden of a mystery disease.
Will never show the beauty inside.
|By Itch&Sctratchni on Thursday, November 16, 2006 - 01:13 pm:|
The cycle of the itch is such a fu*k*ng bitchÖ
The tears in my eyes show the pain and anguish my skin feels when my nails scratch so harsh upon my skin so sore, so red, so thinÖ
Please say I am not the only one who puts up with this pain, I long to cure the itch which rules my life in vainÖ
Let me sleep at night and let my sheets remain bright white; instead of the bloody stains that ruin my lifeÖ
The cycle has to stop soon; otherwise I may end up a mental loonÖ..
Find a cure so one day we can live in comfort and not feel this debilitating pain of dry, cracked skin, so please, please, find it soon.
|By polar bear on Thursday, September 14, 2006 - 02:18 am:|
For everytime i cry i die.
Everytime i ich and bleed i die.
I seek comfort from thing that only destroy me.
Im up all night scrathing and bleeding hoping its just a nightmare.
All the others just sit and stare wondeing whats wrong with the scary kid.
For everytime i scratch i die.
To love one person but they dont love you back because your considered a FREAK makes me mad on the outside but inside i die.
Oh its so cold to be the odd one out.
So please look into my heart and see me before i complely die on the inside.
|By jo on Wednesday, September 06, 2006 - 07:53 pm:|
WHERE NERVE COMES FROM
I smile and laugh in a fun carefree way
Where does she get the nerve? They say
Running my fingers through my hair
Sheís acting pretty. How does she dare?
Taking the menu from the man
What the hells wrong with her hand?
Up close then, they see my face
Their eyes widen. What a gross disgrace
You should be ashamed and hide
If that were me, Iíd never go outside
And the most unbelievable thing of all
is the man who kissed her-so handsome and tall
|By Jen-Jen on Tuesday, August 08, 2006 - 12:12 am:|
Heather's poem from 2002-brilliant.
If one more person tells me not to scratch I will scream!!!!!!
Chin-up everyone. Its hell, I know, I am there;
But there is always somebody in the world worse off than yourself, so pick yourself up, tell yourself you are beautiful and believe it.
|By fish on Friday, July 07, 2006 - 09:54 pm:|
i am a fish
i am scaly
i am red and swollen
i fidget too much
i am an ugly fish
An ugly-rotten-red-steroid infested-alive but liveless-dried fish.
|By skintale.com on Sunday, June 18, 2006 - 06:33 am:|
Here is a link to my personal eczema weblog. Unlike many of the fakes eczema weblogs out there, I am not trying to sell sufferers anything. I simply want to document my pain, emotions and solutions I have tried.
In the next few weeks, I'll be telling the story of my eczema problem over the past year. After that, I'll just be talking about my everday feelings about eczema.
I hope the weblog will be useful for myself and some readers.
|By Jo on Wednesday, December 28, 2005 - 11:16 pm:|
Are you troubled, burdened, blue?
take my hand
I've been troubled, burdened, too
Where you've fallen, I once fell
God, I know those pitfalls well
Let me help the clouds dispell
Take my hand
Others helped when I weak
Took my hand
Helped me to reach toward the peak
Helped me to stand
What they've done, now let me do,
Pass that friendship on to you
When clear, you'll help others too
Take my hand.
|By Got 2 B Hope on Saturday, November 19, 2005 - 07:21 pm:|
Itch Itch Itch Itch,
That's all I seem to do.
Scratch Scratch Scratch Scratch,
People tell me not to.
But they dont know,
This unrelievable pain.
The itch it seems to grow,
Driving a man insane!
A war of one,
A war with myself,
A thirst that connot be quenched,
I could scatch to the bone.
Living this life,
It can be a hell of it's own.
Living this life,
I feel so alone.
|By moondust on Sunday, November 13, 2005 - 04:07 pm:|
this poems for Andrei especially
|By moondust on Sunday, November 13, 2005 - 04:04 pm:|
who knew that life could spring form a seed
who can feed a thirsty child with a drop of water
who knew a man with his right hand could mortify his own daughter
who knew the pains of death and birth before creation of the earth
who knew you,before you were born
who knows use inside out
tells use to be calm when we just want to shout
who made us us,
no pain no gain
15,had atopic eczema for 14yrs still have it,selfpitys never a good thing,dont need to say there are worse,we have to give each other reasurence that we can beat eczema.
|By Monica on Thursday, November 10, 2005 - 05:25 am:|
I hate You
You are ugly
You are part of me,
prevent me from enjoying this,
my only life.
You infest my body.
You kill my life, my soul,
and sqander my vitality.
I only see You. only You.
I do not exist. I sit in the
background and watch.
You are killing me.
I am watching me die.
|By moondust on Wednesday, November 09, 2005 - 07:47 pm:|
all these poems are realy amazing,
|By Hiedi on Friday, August 12, 2005 - 09:29 am:|
To lorraine who left a poem on the 18th june last year it is a lovely poem and i'm sure it sums up how alot of us mums are feelin, i know it's how i feel thank you for puttin it in to such lovely words.
|By broken shell on Tuesday, May 10, 2005 - 11:51 am:|
I tear myself away from myself,
Fearing love and loving fear
I watch her smile and laugh and dance,
Always close, but never near.
My demons claw to free themselves
My eyes fill up with tears
My love, my fear, my hate, my pain,
They eat up all my years.
Iíve cried and screamed and cursed and begged,
But he doesnít want to heal me
I hang my head walking down the street,
I donít want them to see me.
I cannot live when I have no life,
It distorts and it consumes.
Repressed, confined, constricted, entombed,
And caged within my room.
I fear where this will lead me,
I fear where this will end,
I fear where this will leave me,
Alone, without a friend.
|By broken shell on Tuesday, May 10, 2005 - 10:28 am:|
Yeah TDL has talent... though there's a little Skunk Anansie in there too ;)
|By ghmndsddf on Thursday, March 31, 2005 - 02:19 am:|
roses are red
violets are blue
even though you have eczema
you're beautiful too!
|By Loraine on Friday, June 18, 2004 - 02:43 pm:|
Hands like an old man
Eczema is ageing
Scratching is your relief
Your skin is red, sore and rageing
Steriod creams, emmolients
No soap bubbles or shampoo
Pure cotton clothing
No fur toys for you
You are the one I carried
For 9 months my hopes and dreams
I could never have anticipated
The time we would spend with creams
The people out and about always say
"Oh it's eczema, one day it will go away"
Well, maybe it will, it's not for them to say
All I can do for you sweet child is pray
|By lee on Wednesday, March 03, 2004 - 12:47 pm:|
tdl is quite talented
|By lee on Tuesday, March 02, 2004 - 03:57 pm:|
jessie people underestimate the sheer emotional pain of it, and therefore the impact on our lives as a whole, it interfiers with your general sense of well being drastically, causes emotional disturbance of a high order, and therefore affects your general behaviour in a sense it prevents you from being who you are, in a while when allergies are so common as to affect almost everyone to some degree maybe well see some action.
|By Jessie on Monday, March 01, 2004 - 08:40 pm:|
I have read alot of the poems and most have really made me think about my Ezcema. People do stare even though i try not to notice, no ones ever asked about my Ezcema but went i notice them staring id like to be wear a shirt that says "Its Ezcema Stop Staring!" i wonder if id make alot of money if i sold shirts like that. I feel the same as many of you so about your ezcema but i keep it inside and try to play the role of the girl with the perfect life even though thats not how it is. I hope someday they'll find a cure, i dont think its right that we have a live with this everyday of our life.
|By TDL on Wednesday, December 31, 2003 - 12:50 am:|
I can feel him growing inside me,
Feeding on my darkest fears.
In this world all alone,
all alone like nobody cares.
What do I fear? I'm not sure what it is.
I know he makes me want to die,
while eating away inside of me.
sometimes even too afraid to cry.
You never knew what is was like to be me,
I never wanted to be this bitch,
I hate it when people stare at me,
all I want to do is satisfy this itch.
You didn't seem to notice when I strengthed,
or cared when I grew into this vice.
But I was still frightned and trembled,
trembling beneathe the ice.
People often misunderstand me,
and I grew tired of being told to be strong,
I learnt to lie and then began to pretend,
always saying that nothings wrong.
So, the next time you see me scratch,
which can often lead to tears,
just remember -its not me, its him,
feeding on my darkest fears.
|By Grace on Wednesday, December 24, 2003 - 11:44 pm:|
U have such talent,
it made me wanna try it.
2 know pain can produce such things of beauty, leads me to think it is our duty.
eczema did kinda blow it...
we just have to get thru it
Maybe Santa will bring goood cheer
and take away the fear.
With such heat and pain
we try all it seems in vain
Many a time we awake
this discomfort we can not shake.
In ur compassion I revel
This love one cannot sell.
Thank u all for ur time
In reading this inspired rhyme.
Comfort to you all my fellow sufferers.
email of friend below:
|By sufferer on Monday, July 28, 2003 - 07:04 pm:|
A sufferer to,
thanks for the compliment, it made be blush!!
I originally had a different ending to that poem, but I changed it to make it relevant to the feelings and emotions of having eczema. (Thats why the ending that you see is rubbish!)
|By a sufferer to on Monday, July 28, 2003 - 02:32 pm:|
I read it a dozen times.
Would love to know who you are.
A person is form within, and not from without.
Would love to meet someone like you.
And i know i will, very soon.
|By sufferer on Sunday, July 27, 2003 - 08:14 pm:|
I'm no poet either, but I was inspired by Andrei (thanks!). I've never been in love before but I imagine it to be something like this:
He told me that he loved me,
that he couldn't live without me.
He said I was the girl he had always dreamed about,
and I knew it was true because I could see it in his eyes.
In his eyes I saw our future;
a life time of happiness with children and laughter.
No hurt or pain or lies,
just us, living happily ever after.
At night he would lay awake to watch me sleep, watch me breathe while I smiled in my dream.
He wondered if he was in my thoughts,
"Yes, always and forever" I wanted to scream.
In the cold winter nights he held me tight against his body,
our bodies entwined and locked in the embrace.
He whispered "I love you",
his warm, sweet breath upon my face.
As his lips brushed against the nape of my neck I felt my body quiver.
Harder now as he kissed my ears, again I felt my body tremble.
Resistence to his love was useless,
and as I surrended my body to his, I felt everything around me just crumble.
I awoke from this pleasant dream,
and smiled at this beautiful life.
But then, realisation hit me and I began to cry,
because life is cruel and harsh and nasty and shrap as a knife.
You see, all I really want is to love you,
but instead I'm forced to live with this wretched disease.
Instead of love I feel hurt, anger, pain and misery,
because life with eczema is one you cannot live with ease.
In the end, I fear my beautiful dream will only ever be just that - a dream.
|By Andrei on Monday, July 21, 2003 - 11:16 am:|
I am no poet. However these are my feelings:
Hate god for permitting this to happen,
Hate god cause I hate myself when I look at my reflection.
Hate god for all the suffering I had to pass.
Hate god for the agony that still awaits me.
Many faint at the sight of blood.
However I used to ask to my hands:
ďWhy are you crying blood?Ē
ďWhy are you letting the skin die?Ē
I used to look at the mirror with my face bleeding.
Compare my face to picture of Christ.
And I ask:
ďWhy also meÖ I am no son of a god?Ē
Now I hate god even more.
For once I fall so in love with a girl,
That I made courage and approach her,
For a moment I forgot my past, the present and my future.
At sunset she holds my hand,
I watch proud and satisfied on the calm sea,
As the gentle august breeze whispers.
For the first time had this honor, this virtue.
Suddenly she let loose the grip,
She looks at her hand.
I examine my hand,
All cracked, flaked, bleeding.
The salvation cream did not last long enough.
I look at her frightened eyes,
The same old look,
The one like my classmates, colleagues and loyal friends presented to me.
I know it was the usual end.
Had to return to my past and present,
Better stay alone forever,
Not to hurt yourself anymore,
Not to hurt nobody anymore.
We are all fools,
Cause we dream and hope for something to change.
We are all fools,
Cause we know how itís going to end.
Andrei - Malta
|By a mommy who cares on Monday, July 14, 2003 - 01:22 pm:|
Kez- if you click on my name you can email me if you like. I'd like to caht with you either way. I like this site because people are nice and want to help.
|By Kez on Friday, July 11, 2003 - 09:28 pm:|
Dear 'mummy who cares'. I have a 4yr old son with terrible eczema and lots of food intolerances. Life is very very hard but he is such a brave boy and knows that he can't touch other childrens food, sweets etc. I'm not a religious person really, but I believe after all hes been through, he will grow up to be someone special and good. You are certainly not alone - wish we could all get together and chat in person, but as we are probably in all corners of the world, its impossible I quess!! Take care
|By a mommy who cares on Friday, July 11, 2003 - 01:50 pm:|
I have to say that all of you moved me to tears. our son is 14 months old and is suffering from eczema. I write poetry but am not strong enough right now to write about him. Maybe in a few days, months i can. Everytime i look into his smiling blue eyes, my heart breaks a little more. i was told that i caused this because my allergies are so bad, and my husband has asthma. how do you get past the pain of this feeling??? thank you for the poetry... maybe i'll write one this weekend. keep up the great work.
|By S on Sunday, March 16, 2003 - 05:38 am:|
I sat at the table in the small cafe
I sit here at lunchtime almost every day
The owners here know me the customers do not
They sit now behind me whispering in shock
My head and chest are the worst flared up during the night
My hateful eczema clawed me spitting red blood venom in spite
Ignoring the whispers I eat and wait
For there is a reason I sit here I shall not vacate
Most days at 2 Iím on a promise
Thereís a girl that walks past to get lunch for her office
Here she comes now oh my god sheís stunning
An angel from above to sort out me plumbing
Sheíll just walk past of course like she does every day
She doesnít know me from Adam and itís better that way
For I am a male life long chronic atopic eczema sufferer
Why the hell would she want to talk to me?
I can barley look at myself in the mirror anymore
I know how bad I look, as bad as before
Sheís gone now out of view my dreaming bubble popped
But donít get me wrong now I donít want to end up in the dock
Iím not weird and purvey a voyeur loony
Iím just red and scratchy and a little bit lonely
My little poem about my complete inability to have or start a relationship.
A very difficult thing to do when you canít stand the site of yourself
Sorry about the plumbing bit ;)
|By Mummy on Sunday, February 02, 2003 - 11:06 pm:|
Please stop scratching,
Pat it. Rub it. Tickle it!
You're making it bleed! It's getting worse. Just stop Please.
Try some of this cream. Try some of that cream. Cool it down. Wrap it upÖ Please stop scratching.
I just donít know what else to say. I donít know what else to do.
Iím so sorry my baby that you were cursed with this
I wish to God it were me instead of you.
|By chowmander on Thursday, January 30, 2003 - 09:42 am:|
No one understands
No one understands the pain I feel,
the feeling of my skin about to peel.
The pain, the sorrow, that I have to endure,
Knowing that I am so far from a cure.
Living life day by day,
waiting for the itch to go away.
I will never live a proper life,
with all this excess pain and strife.
I wish everyone could just leave me alone,
and understand I just wanna go home.
Bless all the souls who are just like me,
who live life and let it be.
Love yourself, and everyone will love you,
Hopefully everyone will see you true.
Don't give up, don't give in,
have hope, wipe those tears off your chin.
|By God on Thursday, January 30, 2003 - 09:11 am:|
What do i do when i feel like i want to die?
What do i do when my skin turns pink and i cannot stop this contamination and desire to call off the meat eating flesh under my skin
Digging and scratching to find the source of all my pain and hatred
What do i find?
nothing but my red blood and white bone
sometimes i wish my dumb parents and friends would stop saying that i have been blessed
Do they understand this agony i am undertaking?
No they do not...
but do i understand how and why they have been telling me that i have been blessed?
How can i find a cure? How can i live a hapy life
To find ur happiness one must overcome their ambition
the answer lies in the author of this poem
|By Anonymous on Monday, January 06, 2003 - 09:45 pm:|
nice one Shakespeare.
|By Heather on Monday, October 21, 2002 - 10:17 pm:|
Cream after cream
Lotion afther lotion
Tablet after tablet.
None of them touch it,
they don't touch the scars or
the pain that I feel.
They don't touch the sleep
I so despretly need or
the pain free day i dream of.
Everyone thinks I'm diseased,
I feel like a lepar in my town
With scabby arms and harsh hands.
'It must be horrible'
'It must be horrible'
'Stop scratching.... stop scratching.... stop scratching....'
The sight of blood doesn't stop me scratching.
Words most definatly won't.
|By blotchy! on Monday, September 09, 2002 - 10:29 pm:|
God bless all of you. I am with you in spirit AND in skin. I wish I had known about this site earlier--then I wouldn't have thrown out my old poems.
Stay strong. Eczema gave me compassion and I truly believe that we who have it possess a unique resilience that no one else can understand.
|By ALC538 on Monday, September 09, 2002 - 07:10 pm:|
People stare, People laugh, People only see the
the outside of me.
People will one day see me from the inside to the
If people knew the inside of me, then they would
see how beautiful I can be.
Inside my body, there is a heart made of gold.
So listen to my heart beat strong and bold.
This golden heart sometimes weeps, because people
call me a freak.
Even though my little body looks a mess, Mama
and daddy says that I am blessed.
This little heart and mind often wishes that
death would come in the night, where my perfect
spirit could take flight.
When my heart of gold turns blue, My Guardian
angel appears with strength anew.
She floods my soul with hope, love, and light
and gives me the strength and courage to fight.
Outside I am a mess for the world to see, but
inside I am the perfect me.
Written by: Leanne Coker
for my loving and giving daughter
Ashton Leigh Coker
July 24, 2002
|By Rose on Friday, June 21, 2002 - 09:55 pm:|
These are some very well writen poems. I hope you all have the best of luck with your eczema.
The Enemy is everywhere,
Impossible to fight,
Night and day it never stops,
Try as I might.
The burning and pain,
It seems Iím the only one,
Who isnít free.
Caged in like a beast,
I should feel human,
At the very least.
A Wish A Hope A Dream
I look out my window,
At the world down below,
And I canít help but wonder,
Does anybody know?
The Pain is always there,
I wish I could ignore,
The way it makes me feel,
I donít want to feel that anymore.
Despite all I still dream,
Perhaps, maybe, someday,
Once this is all over,
The pain will go away.
I know itís just a small hope,
But to it I must cling,
If I let go for just a second,
That be the most awful thing.
To fall back into despair,
Where hurt and agony grow,
Thatís no place for me,
It make me wonder though.
If I could chose just one thing,
Iíd chose not to cry,
though monsters darken every door,
I shall not hide.
I still have,
|By lazz on Wednesday, June 12, 2002 - 05:24 pm:|
This is a poem that i wrote when the times were bad and i was ereemly sad, i have just found this website and sharing is caring......
Could anyone really know,
What it feel's like to be scared from head to toe,
So many people have not one worry,
It's not like i want them to be sorry,
If they were to experience just one day of my pain,
Maybe i would not feel like i alwas need to explain,
I wonder why...
And it just makes me want to cry,
People say it's the insides that count,
This just makes my want to shout ,
Emotions is what makes people weak,
Maybe one day these answers i shall not have to seek!
|By lee on Monday, May 27, 2002 - 09:25 pm:|
to madame flaky jesus.....i feel sorry for you and im in the same position i know all that agony sometimes you just have to get angry at the universe anger is strength
|By Face/off girl. on Sunday, May 19, 2002 - 03:49 pm:|
What do you do?
What do you do when you scratch yourself till you bleed and then its too late?
What do you do when you repulse the person in the mirror looking back at you?
What do you do when you can feel 1000 eyes on you, scrutinizing every visible part of your skin and know excaely what they are thinking?
What do you do when you have to cry yourself to sleep at night to escape the pain, agony and misery of your existence?
What do you do when nobody acknowledges you as a 'normal' person, not even he whom you love from afar?
What do you do when there is nothing stopping you from taking the scissors to your wrists to end your misery?
Theres only one thing you can do...
|By copied across on Wednesday, January 23, 2002 - 11:03 pm:|
By nessa on Wednesday, January 23, 2002 - 04:24 pm:
what would you do if you didn't have eczema?
i'd like to start wearing earrings again.
i'd get back in the darkroom and develop some photos and not worry about the chemicals.
i'd like to wear just a little bit of makeup.
i'd LOVE to dye my hair red, but again, can't take the chemicals.
i'd let the cats sleep on my bed with me.
i'd go horse riding.
i'd get a good night's sleep.
i'd wear white shirts and have white bedding without worrying about blood spots on everything.
i know i should be trying to be positive instead of thinking of what i can't do. but it's how i'm feeling right now. sorry.
|By Anonymous on Sunday, December 30, 2001 - 03:57 pm:|
Is this a nightmare?
No I'm awake!
But this is as bad
I cannot escape!
I'm imprisoned within
this itchy red skin
I scream and I shout
but I cannot climb out.
|By Holly on Sunday, December 30, 2001 - 11:35 am:|
I called it to me.
I wanted it.
The pianist needed a reason -
A good reason - not to play.
So the words were spoken:
"I wish something would happen to my hands,
So that I wouldn't have to play anymore."
Who knows how to "call it away?"
|By Zoe on Tuesday, October 23, 2001 - 06:10 pm:|
I really connect to the Poem Tell me the Truth, by Madam Flaky. It is so true. Luckily enough I have a man who truly understands my feelings. But I felt everything she said, and I have done everything she did. If I hear another person say, oh I understand the itch I get mosquito bites, I think I'll go crazy! It doesn't even compare. Anyway to anyone out there who is feeling the same emotions there are people who fully understand. I am so glad I found this page.
|By Madam Flaky on Wednesday, August 08, 2001 - 04:22 pm:|
Tell me the truth
Have you ever thought about suicide?
Have you ever stayed awake all night
Sitting upright in bed
Too hot to lie down
Too afraid of how you'll wake up?
Have you ever seen people on the news and thought
"You don't know pain until you've been
Inside my skin"?
Have you ever looked upon others with jealousy
Because they seem so healthy and clear?
Have you ever held yourself back from crying
Because you're afraid of having tears on your face?
Have you ever feared that the one you love
Hates you as much as you hate yourself?
Then please don't tell me
You know how I feel!
Please don't say
"It must be awful"
Please don't comment on my appearance
Every single time you see me.
Please don't look at me
And please don't look away.
|By ANON on Monday, July 09, 2001 - 11:51 pm:|
In Your Mind
I wish I could stop
I don't want to scratch
Its just that I have to
In my mind they say - but how
I am but 4 months old
|By Davinder on Saturday, June 23, 2001 - 10:18 pm:|
Poetry can be an interesting way to express your feelings on eczema. We have seen examples of this already. As a result we thought it would be nice to start of a special topic on eczema and poetry.
Please feel free to add your poetry
all the best