Scratching at the ever itch
The place that I used to stitch
Hampered by some foreign sight
Just before the blinding light
Dropping to my battered knees
Begging for information keys
While vicious tones continue to ring
Asking if I think I’ll get out of this thing?
Response beyond my mentions here
I could really do with venting fear
Instead I rub at my flesh
Hoping that I’ll pass the test
Unseen but I know it lives
When can I see what it gives?
Crumbling back to bleached bone
How I feel when I go prone
Feeling that constant burn
Making me want to turn
Rash covers my heart and mind
Not sure I should find
Perhaps I’d be better to walk away
Nothing can be worth decay
Damaged by the constant tick
I’ve become warped and sick
Open wound upon the sore
My time has become poor
Weave me like a single thread
Lacerated my only head

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