Host

H.R.Powell

There are things beneath my skin,

Things that cannot get out

Things i cannot see

Through my body they move

They torment me

I scratch at them, they bleed out

I pull and rub and brush them away,

But their bodies remain

They rot into my flesh

And they burst from my arms and my face

My back and my shoulders

I can’t get rid of them

I can’t get rid of them

They have become me

I have become the Host of a colony

Of thoughts



  • Author: H.R. Powell (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: August 23rd, 2018 13:13
  • Comment from author about the poem: I have lived with severe anxiety and paranoia for a long time and the concept of things underneath my skin has haunted me for most of my life and this poem is my way of expressing this feeling.
  • Category: Gothic
  • Views: 11
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Comments1

  • Netashi

    Is it the thoughts are the host or the fear, maybe either or but either way its a great poem keep it up.
    -Theta

    • H.R.Powell

      Thank you Theta! In the poem I am the host to parasitic thoughts, 'I have become host of a colony of thoughts'.
      - Haley

      • Netashi

        Ah ok



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