I see the profile of a man.
My eyes are first drawn to the yellow
     tinted skin,
tinted as if he were dead and
     embalmed.
Next I notice the many welts upon
     his face,
some of the welts are hard and
     cracked open.
From these welts a slimy puss drips
     out drop after drop.
The man is shivering as if cold.
His disease has even caused his eyes
     to grow dark and vacant.
His hair is just isolated strands of
     hair upon his head.
Then, as a single strand of puss
     makes it's way from between
     his lips, and runs down his
     chin
I recognize this man if thats what you
     want to call him.
This man is myself.
He is my self-image
And the disease...
well, that disease is called loneliness.

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