my back itched
not the
ohmygoditsgoingtodrivemecrazy
itch
but rather
the scars themselves
screamed in unison
as if something wanted freed.
so i comply
and gouge at them
tearingfightingrending
wanting to know
what wanted out
and to my surprise...
a single feather
from each
gapingyawningsplitting
rip in my flesh
is it the
end of the cycle?
or is it
the beginning of
another mentality?














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