In the quiet of the morning, before the world begins to spin,
I rise with purpose and a smile—it's time to tend my skin.
No hurried rush, no careless scrub, no skipping what is due,
For skin, you see, is sacred ground—I treat it like it's new.
I start with gentle cleansing love, a warm and tender wipe,
Removing traces of the night, and anything not right.
Then comes a mist, like morning dew, to calm and softly glow,
It whispers, “You are worth the time”—and darling, I know.
I exfoliate the stress away, the dullness, dirt, and gloom,
Like shedding all the yesterdays to let today make room.
My serums come with secrets, packed with all the good,
Vitamin C, hyaluronic dreams—just like skincare should.
I press them in with mindful hands, like prayers upon my face,
Each stroke a vow, a gentle nod to softness, light, and grace.
Then moisturizer seals it all, a shield so rich and kind,
A barrier of beauty, built with love and peace of mind.
Sometimes I give my skin a treat—a mask to soothe and mend,
A moment where I sit and breathe, let healing be my friend.
Steam that rises like a spa, a gua sha’s sculpting art,
Massage that sings into my soul, and hugs my beating heart.
I love the glow, the feel, the tone—but more than what you see,
It’s what it means: that loving skin is how I honor me.
I don’t just chase perfection; I nourish from within,
Because I know my power starts with how I care for skin.
So if you ask me why I glow, or why I always grin,
It’s simply this: I fell in love with caring for my skin.
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