• My skin has melted,
    my face is torn.
    I can no longer talk,
    I can no longer speak.
    All that comes from my disfigured mouth
    is a loud moan.
    I moan,
    they all come.
    But I don't want them to,
    I just want you to see me,
    I want you to know that I'm still alive.
    They're coming closer,
    I crawl forward,
    trying to tell you to run.
    Run,
    run!
    There are too many,
    you'll surely die my old friend.
    But all you do is stare at me in horror,
    hate is thick in you brown eyes.
    Another moan drifts from my lips.
    If I could cry,
    sweet salty tears
    would be cascading down my molting cheeks.
    They're eating you now,
    I hear you scream.
    Even if they are slow,
    their numbers are too great.
    I told you they would kill you.
    But you paid no attention to my words,
    Only to this deformed body that I now possess.