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Jul 2014
Ever had an itch that won't scratch.
Its under your skin, in your blood stream or bone marrow.

That feeling walks down your skin.
Your brain fights back by slamming hand down trying to break the surface.

Your nails turn a dark screaming pink.

All you're  doing is clawing at a crimson red.


You're red handed because that itch wouldn't scratch.
One of my first poems
punk rock hippy
Written by
punk rock hippy
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