Poetry

1. ACNE
Round bumps of red rash developed on my face,
As a handful of mosquitoes stung placid regions of my flesh in unison.
Small protrusions of skin were visible on my face,
An aftermath of fanatic consumption of dairy milk chocolate.
Blotted patches of dirty green crept on my handsome feet,
After dipping it in stagnant water for unsurpassable lengths of time.
Soft crusts of yellow grew in abundance beneath my luscious lips,
As I didn’t scrub my face for weeks on the trot.
Illicit corrugations of grey engulfed large portions of my back,
The moment I rolled vociferously in remnant ashes of a dead soul.
Fresh wounds of thin blood were disdainful to spot on my hands,
As I kneaded them against cutters of steel to gain respite from inflamed irritation.
Prominent sty buds cropped on intricate exteriors of my eye,
After violent outbursts of epidemic fever.
Tiny hillocks of skin took birth on my scalp,
As I drenched them in fuming acid instead of tepid water.
Colossal amounts of prickly heat erupted on my chest,
As I waded through blistering currents of the brutal summer.
Minuscule goose-bumps rose with tender tenacity from my body,
As I lay down on cubes of ice, bereft of a cloth camouflaging my flesh.
Throbbing walls of my sensitive heart,
Got reinforced with a cluster of blunt tiny thorns,
Ripping apart capillaries of blood, bellows of gallant oxygen,
When the person I was ready to die for,
The one who meant to me more than what bountiful life could offer,
Left me midway in my quest for conquering unfathomable goals in life.