There's spiders crawling up my back
They walk beneath my skin
Following my veins as tracks
If I give in to the itch and scratch,
They'll only go deeper down it seems
In a whack-a-mole, I'll never win
There's no cut to end the scene
A T virus living within me
Too young for this vaccine.
There's a dagger digging in my side
Giving a twist every five minutes or so
As hard as I've tried, I can't remove it
For a few weeks then I guess it resides
I don't know if they can tell me
Why I always throw dice and end up
With such luck of drawing snake eyes
But they seem to be on the slither
Scaling quickly up and down my spine
There's a room that's been spinning a bit,
A headache for days that just won't quit,
I'm losing focus and maybe you noticed
But I'm trying hard not to throw a fit.
I'm anxious and truly I don't wish to mingle,
I'm twenty - six and I have the shingles
And my roof is leaking a bit.
Everyday I ask myself
If the hole is still open
My itchy fingers can’t help
But poke and pry
Instead of let time heal
My itchy fingers
Do more harm
Than patience and time
My itchy fingers
Keep on itching
I keep asking myself
If it’ll heal
But my itchy fingers
The opening night,
in front of packed house.
The story, a fight,
between a cat and a mouse.
The cat with her guile and
the mouse, all the while.
Powers up a ******' chainsaw
with a knowing wry smile.
So never bet against the mouse
with either money or your house
because the crafty **** takers
have slashed the odds at bookmakers
as to what's in the pies
at the new high street bakers.
Poetry by Kaydee.
Old enemies retold.
(randomly drawn years gone by
without gifted with pipe dream *** of gold)
Paradise visage and eyes
a bulge with dollar signs
PowerBall ticket bought
expected usual outcome
after next drawing
to yield monetary naught
temptation for instant millions
human foible to reach
elusive *** of gold
streak of universal desire
overtook rational self
delusions of grandeur caught
aloud, enabled and provided flirtation
illusory fate to experience rich draught
distant battle fought
attacking hard scrapple existence wrought!
precious legal tender chronically
short supply within
this (then) family of four
though hard times, eye desired at least
another son or daughter
urge (long silenced this ram
ewe who) vehemently didst roar
boot budding young girls
I whole-heartedly loved and adored,
who rushed into opened arms,
whenever back from trivial pursuits
nearly squeezing out digested gore,
when casually and nonchalantly
turned key to open front door
akin to finest crafted clock work
sounding time of day
they danced and frolicked
like kittens or puppies
bringing newspaper and/or
dem golden (ha) slippers
sharing silly concocted faux pa lore
inviting me to play
make believe games on floor
without keeping score
I forever store!
made unsettled existence hand to mouth
fantastically generated grandiose aspirations
successful life frequently headed south.
found excitement and linguistic pleasure
thru attempt to pry poem
or prose from mind
deliberated semblance to communicate
and extract idea from cranial rind
words synchronized suitably
in poetic third eye bind
readers may espy hidden puns
within rhyme lined
with challenges or commiserate
via words of positive kind
although large sum of money
would be dog send
delivered by one
blessed angel in disguise
redemption and salvation
rued bing considerate regarding
thankful escape out poverty grind.
Much rather be cursed
with excess wealth
deliverance to life,
liberty and mental health
depravity foreign concept
never to rue by stealth,
nor can money buy spiritual wealth!
It crawls underneath your skin.
Distracts you from your friends
from your life.
You can’t help but scratch it.
Your friends try to stop you.
They pull your hands away
the skin on your wrist,
are already red from your nails
they don’t want your skin like paper to tear.
They don’t want to see your blood drip out like paint off a brush.
You can’t help it
that itch is so demanding
it demands to be scratched
no matter where it travels to.
Your wrist becomes bright red with marks from your nails.
Your legs have red splotches over them from digging your nails
into your skin harder to itch through your jeans.
Your arms have red splotches traveling up them
and under the sleeve of your shirt.
Your face is sensitive from your nails digging into it so often.
You can’t win!
The itch doesn’t go away no matter how long you scratch.
It drives you insane.
It won’t leave,
I’m going insane.
The itch is so persistent!
I think I might need some calamine lotion…
Maybe some Benadryl...
I don't know what the deal is but I just keep getting really itchy. Like I am right now and it just travels around my body. It's horrible and driving me insane and I don't end up thinking about it and end up digging at whatever part of my body itches especially if it s my wrist. It was bothering my best friend that I just kept digging at my skin so she kept hitting and pulling my hands away from my skin. I'm just so itchy its terrible!
Troubled by fate
The taste longed for is
The glory of success.
If only he could put in the best.
O how he yearns for that taste
12:54am 9 29 2014
It was 4am and Bill bit me
My two arms soar and itchy,
I awoke in discomfort which quickly turned into anxiety and anger
Scratching to ease my pain which temporary ceased
Thoughts of my life, work and my insecurities burned to my attention
******* Bill! I sighed, he's awaked my anxieties too early
Seething now, feeling redder and redder I wondered why Bill didn't let me be
Id had enough and got up to apply some lotion
Slowly my pain began to soothe and I drifted away
Awake now at 9am
Somewhat calmer, my insecurities still present but other thoughts present too
I ponder on what lotions I can use
— The End —