(CW's at the end for anyone who needs them)
My flesh, always consumed by parasites; rats nibble and chew at open wounds.
it gets worse
by the day-
every time I look in the mirror my stare is more demented.
I told my mom
She said she thought my body suited me;
;
;
I'm the only one who sees the parasites.
They're in my head
[It's all in my head
does that make it
Wrong? Dangerous?
Fake?
Delusional? Sin?
]
They never devour the flesh I want them to.
My face corrodes, and these hands stiffen with rigor mortis.
My voice sounds even less like it's mine.
No One else hears,
and no one else knows how I
wish to Peel meat off my ribs just to be rid of this
WRONGNESS
--------------------------------------------
cw: uhh, gore? Ig, Body horror, reference to rats as gross creatures rather than fuzzy delightful friends.
YOU ARE READING
Ode to Life
PoetryIt's chaos to figure out how to live. To love yourself, to love others, to create, to destroy. It's just life. But maybe... just life isn't a bad thing? You can't have good without the ugly. This has all my poems combined, this'll be my only poetry...
