I’ve got this itch inside of me
Years have gone by with no respite, despite repeated attempts to dig underneath
Rows of scars line the flesh like cornfields
the crops have dried and all that remains are wilted husks waiting for rain
Sometimes I crave to walk into the flood
once the gates open, nothing can stop the gush as it flows forth, carrying the dying in its sweet release
They say as you submerge yourself, the body gasps in shock, responding to liquid seeping in place of stale air
Oh how I wish to feel something, anything other than this itch
Maybe I’ll open the flood gates and cut a little deeper this time…
Author’s Words for Thought
“In case you didn’t know, dead people don’t bleed. If you can bleed-see it, feel it-then you know you’re alive. It’s irrefutable, undeniable proof. Sometimes I just need a little reminder.” -Amy Efaw
