Rash

Every Winter you come back

Bigger than before. 

On my arm like a sore. 

You I want to attack. 

I've tried lots of kinds of oil, 

Salt water, even butter;

All the irons plus the putter.

Still you're there like a boil. 

You make be kind of crazy like a rhyme-scheme reversal.

You make me look bruised,

Like as if I've been abused,

But you insist it isn't personal. 

I guess it's time to accept you

Just as part of my body.

Since you came to the party, 

I suppose I'll have to admit you

Exist.