033 - Skin

Imagine if there were such a thing

As becoming allergic to your own skin

Being unable to touch yourself

For fear that it would ruin your health

Skin on skin might bring out blisters

You’d find it hard to use your fingers

Wearing gloves would be routine

Because of some fault in your gene

You’d probably end up very thin

Your lips being fixed in a wide grin

You’d be unable to eat your food

In fact, generally, you’d be screwed

You might have to be wrapped in plastic

Your sex life would be somewhat monastic

Bathing would be a real chore

Parts of your body constantly at war

Your life would be a total mess

With ugly pustules all over your flesh

You’d be in constant agony

And your brain might actually atrophy

So let’s not risk it - end it now

I hereby do solemnly vow

To burn your body in a pit

Cos I definitely don’t want to catch it

* * *

This poem appears in the book World’s Bestest Poetry Volume One, available from the Shop!