The Itch

I have an itch

the itch to leave

the itch, it keeps itching

it itches, it itches

 

A red spot

365 days prior

now a distorted body

it's a wonder why

you cease to see

that this body

it itches to mass destruct

 

This skin it hurts

it bleeds

I want to shed me

to slip out of me

to rip me

 

I can see my ripping

I've held the knives;

twiddled them in my fingers

I couldn't stomach

to sharpen the blade

the more I process the shed,

the more power the shed will shed me

 

I've worn oppositions

I've spoken of the gospel

I've acted against this rash

but why can't you see

that my flesh has rotten?

 

I've pealed away

back to my roots

my core is rotten

inside out

I am dead

 

"Wake up

You're alive

We're on you're side"

 

I wore this clothing

 

Can't you see?

I am awake

I am dead

You're on my side?

If you were on my side

you would be standing beside me

 

If you were on my side

you'd see this rash and how it itches

if you were on my side

you would stop scratching my itch

 

If you were on my side

you would try to save me.

Reviews

[nostal]

Interesting. Love the itch.

[Legion]

Only you can save you. An interesting piece I might add. Love the concept you portray here (even if I don't think "shedding" is an option). Is it "pealed" or "peeled"? Can't remember. Great write that shows much frustration. Kudos.