of many
of the small
cruel tricks.
One from the mix that life inflicts
Is the never ending itch that afflicts hexed skin
bane from birth
wicked as a scorned bitch.
the beginning is small
a subtle nag
triggered by the thing you ate
the trans fat thickens your saliva
coating the inside of your mouth like wretched feathers
(baptised when crude oil spills)
devilish treats cause mischief
but impossible to resist is junk
scoffed without presence of mind to consider
Irony that a doughnut has caused the tingle
rising in urgency
you try to ignore, but the effort in vain
the will is weak
itch must be obeyed
it builds upon itself
until it cannot be endured,
weak, you relent.
Raking the surface
slave to the itching,
possessed
you scratch to quell the irretation
calm is realeased
the briefest of breezes
a taste of peace
the cruelest of teases
gone in a flash
joy is a blip
comes next is not cool
burns hot
lit wick.
conclusion is written in code
etched on lines
a pronounced ebb
that promises scabs
again, and again..
Just one
Of many
Of the small
cruel tricks
one from the mix that life inflicts.
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