The Itch

tiger-655593_1920๏ฟผ

Have you ever had an itch you just couldn’t scratch? No matter how much it prickles your skin, you can’t get your fingernails in the right place. You rub and grind, writhe and wriggle, but the damn thing won’t let up. You ask for help but the other person’s nails just drag at your jumper, their best attentions no more than a temporary respite. This is were the madness sets in. You wish yourself a tiger, so to sink your teeth into it, a hawk, your talons to shred. After a while, the itch becomes a distraction, then an annoyance, then worse. You obsess over it. The itch is the last thing you think about before sleeping and the first thing you notice when you wake. In fact, you might argue, your itch becomes such a physical part of your life that you can’t remember living without it.

I called my itch Klara. She’s under my skin still.

Advertisements

18 thoughts on “The Itch

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s