I'm vile and reptilian, something cold and crawling with 

Germs writhes beneath my pockmarked skin, my flesh 

I've starved away and loathed, hated like a bad buy at 

The January sales, shoved so far into the closet that the 

Closet is all I really know. 


All of the stars scattered in their eyes look like 

Bacteria now; I shattered the rose window they 

Painted all around me, so the shards poke in my 

Raw-meat heart; infections, no affection to throw 

At you, like stones in this glass house 



You pulled away bits of me until all that was left was 

A host for your parasite, a grounds for experimentation to

March all over, tear down, use once and 

Dispose of. 

The End

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