You are the itch I can't ever scratch,
you trickle and ***** my thoughts
like sandpaper to a match,
latching onto the roots of my head,
you are the one stalking my thinking space
in and between the hours I lay on my bed,
and I tell myself that you're nothing to me,
a dusty web on the corner of my mind,
you are, I tell myself, nothing to me,
that you are the vexing fly I can't catch,
and I tell myself you are nothing to me,
nothing but the itch I can't ever scratch,
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 9:46 AM UTC
You are the itch I can't ever scratch,
you trickle and ***** my thoughts
like sandpaper to a match,
latching onto the roots of my head,
you are the one stalking my thinking space
in and between the hours I lay on my bed,
and I tell myself that you're nothing to me,
a dusty web on the corner of my mind,
you are, I tell myself, nothing to me,
that you are the vexing fly I can't catch,
and I tell myself you are nothing to me,
nothing but the itch I can't ever scratch,
