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Description
His eyes are blank
Glass marbles staring out on nothing
Stuck in empty sockets
Surrounded by his burned, pockmarked face
Skin peeling like old paint
Revealing torn ligaments and bleached bone
His hands are gnarled and twisted
Like ancient tree branches reaching for that last bit of light
Flickering amber-gold,
The dying ashes of a cigarette
His shirt is ripped open,
Revealing misshapen ribs
Through which his cardiovascular system had been ripped out and examined
Before being tossed aside into the dark
A block from a child's tantrum
His knotted, greasy hair falls down and out
Littering the ground like streamers from some wild festivities
But this wasn't any party
Nothing celebrated
As he struggled through the jungle
Hacking with his machete at anything that slithered into his path
As poison ivy creeped up behind him,
Plaguing his footsteps
And wrapping around him
Poison green tentacles
Burns like acid decorate his face like tattoos
Patterns seared into sickly skin
Bubbling and oozing
Death and decay on the wind
The smell of broken promises and shattered friendships
Drift into the ash-stained distance.
I gaze at this body,
This blackened beast,
This creature.
And one thing's for sure,
I don't know this man,
Not anymore.

~Caitlin Salemi, 2012

Description
His eyes are blank
Glass marbles staring out on nothing
Stuck in empty sockets
Surrounded by his burned, pockmarked face
Skin peeling like old paint
Revealing torn ligaments and bleached bone
His hands are gnarled and twisted
Like ancient tree branches reaching for that last bit of light
Flickering amber-gold,
The dying ashes of a cigarette
His shirt is ripped open,
Revealing misshapen ribs
Through which his cardiovascular system had been ripped out and examined
Before being tossed aside into the dark
A block from a child's tantrum
His knotted, greasy hair falls down and out
Littering the ground like streamers from some wild festivities
But this wasn't any party
Nothing celebrated
As he struggled through the jungle
Hacking with his machete at anything that slithered into his path
As poison ivy creeped up behind him,
Plaguing his footsteps
And wrapping around him
Poison green tentacles
Burns like acid decorate his face like tattoos
Patterns seared into sickly skin
Bubbling and oozing
Death and decay on the wind
The smell of broken promises and shattered friendships
Drift into the ash-stained distance.
I gaze at this body,
This blackened beast,
This creature.
And one thing's for sure,
I don't know this man,
Not anymore.

~Caitlin Salemi, 2012