deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Creeping Sickness
They seem to sense the decay
buzzing at me all day
landing on my arms
my broken face
attracted
to the pulp
of infections
pushing the stench
from me
the only ones
left to comfort
and carry me
are the flies
buzzing at me all day
landing on my arms
my broken face
attracted
to the pulp
of infections
pushing the stench
from me
the only ones
left to comfort
and carry me
are the flies
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