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
