Report Blog Entry
The itch
Every so often I get a feeling,Β
Usually during the early mornings, Where I am left alone with my thoughts.
As I lay on my back facing up at my ceiling I feel something,
An itch.Β
A feeling as though there is something under my skin,
It feels as though small bugs are crawling under it, desperate to be set free.
It aches.
I toss and turn unable to keep still, the feeling only growing stronger by the minute.
To rip, to tear, to cut.
To free those bugs beneath my skin, to finally feel relief. To finally rest.
But I know deep down, In the end, when I free those bugs,
There will be nothing left but red and regret.
Comments
Comments disabled.