slurping on my vulnerable skin.
It's a punishing swell, I'm itching like hell,
with bruises blossoming and ballooning within.
Wherever I go, insects swallow
my succulent blood with no conscience or fear.
Whether up here or somewhere down there,
picturesque patterns and rashes appear.
Wherever I go, insects bring sorrow,
mocking my lack of fight at great length.
The tiniest bite gives my body a fright,
sapping whatever remains of my strength.
But all will turn on its head tomorrow
when I stagger to buy antihistamine cream.
Watch out you bastards, I'm going to get plastered
and poison your evil and venomous scheme.
