Bug Bites

My flesh is the appetizer of the parasites,
They feast on me while I lie motionless,
For hours they gnaw at my lifeless body,
Gorging themselves with my blood.

They leave only the blistering mountains,
A constant reminder that I am human,
An imperfect machine,
Who can be so easily manipulated.

I'm afraid to scratch, I might tear every last shred of flesh off my bones.

-Sir Jestro