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Ali Cronin
Poems
May 2014
Flesh
Each day, my rotten flesh
Is being picked away.
The scabs blossoming
With their rosy red smiles,
So crystalline
And bright.
And as I shed my winter coat,
The sad mass of green goo,
A figure, raw and sick,
Is left behind.
From thick
To thin.
Now ******
And bare,
Somehow this spring breeze
Is more like poisoned air.
#poison
#red
#raw
#spring
#cold
#naked
#breeze
#smiles
#air
#bare
#flesh
#rotten
#coat
#mass
#goo
#rosy
#crystalline
Written by
Ali Cronin
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