Let you kill this chorus

Things like to bite me. Pests, all of them. What the hell is in my bloodstream? My ankles, my calves, the backs of my knees, my hips, my ribs, my wrists, my arms, my collarbone, my neck, my ear, and a few PG-13 parts are covered with mini-hickeys and nasty, itchy, red-pink-purple blooms. UGH.

They single me out. People around me don't get bitten by a menagerie. Ako lang. WHAT IS IN MY BLOODSTREAM?

*

Sticky farking HEAT. But you all knew that.

I traipse around Calatagan in a dalagang-bukid skirt and a loose goth-girl shirt. Maraming talahib. Rape scene na lang kulang.

*

Oh, joy. I'm bruised, bitten, sticky and (almost) half-naked, running through sugarcanes with a soundtrack in the background. You'd think this was my most perfect-est-est summer.