Feb 2015
spiders crawl through holes
in my skin.
i spray repellents, but
they still get in.
skating patterns below my flesh-
so very thin.
leaving residual paths of terror,
i can't tell where they're going.
but i itch, scratch, tear at where they've been.
in my skin.
i spray repellents, but
they still get in.
skating patterns below my flesh-
so very thin.
leaving residual paths of terror,
i can't tell where they're going.
but i itch, scratch, tear at where they've been.
the unidentifiable rhyming pattern of this poem is supposed to resemble the frantic feeling of depression/anxiety. its always the same things, but you can't control your fear or the outcome.
