Disease

I fester in the center of
an army of nerves
running wild up and down
my bitter spine
My blood is like acid
It eats through my skin
leaving my bones bare
and charred
I got angry fungi
growing behind my eyes
It’s got me seeing
red that grows like
a rash across people’s
faces
My ears are picky
They only hear the stuff
that makes me sick
I don’t know why
this is living
I’m swimming in a disease
that drives me to hate
I run from the shame
Look for other options
but my brain
is sick with mold
I stick to the solution
Seek out other resolutions
But I grew so disillusioned
that my only answers
seem to be lighting
a misanthropic fuse