Warning: Heavy mentions of decay and rot, with unnerving imagery

In the spirit of Halloween, here is a less-than-flattering poem to send shivers through your spine.

I Think My Body's Rotting

I think that my body is rotting

My lips are covered in sores from all of the times that my teeth-

Yellow and dull-

Have scraped against them

Slowly, slowly, slowly- SCRAPE

My eyes are sunken because the sockets have physically

DROPPED- physically and unnaturally bent from their position

Until they've molded into nothingness

I think my body is rotting because my ribs have snapped, they've bruised

They've been CARVED into pieces, like the skin flakes falling from my lips

And my pulse hasn't slowed at all but quickened faster faster FASTER until

The blood, pooling and black, beats against each wall of skin, frantically

Dancing, BURSTING, until it solidifies into a bulbous goo

I think my body is rotting but it hasn't fully rotted, and so

My skin is a sickly, droopy gray with hints of mildew at its tips

And I swear that the wrinkles will one day enfold me until I disappear completely

My body is ROTTING but never stiff, and so I fight against every second-

Teeth scraping against these lips