Inner Itch

There it was again, that uncomfortable restlessness inside

The restless inner itch inside, gnawing at her brain

There should be something more then this

Something greater then the day-to-day

Mundane, routine, same old, the itch that cannot be scratched.


The itch came and went

Often it happened on bright sunny days

When the being was stuck inside, looking out at the world

Doing things that beings had to do

To make it through another day in this vast world of life.


The problem was that the itch was so deep, so unrelenting

And it was inside her hard thick skull, through layers of neurological material

There was no finger, no nail, no back scratch that could reach it

And the being often gave up

Watching and despising the itch until she fell into an exhausted sleep state.


Lately the being noticed that the itch arrived more and more

Leaving her full of despair, and at times loathing for this life

She would curl up inside and outside

And refuse to come outside of her human shell

This place where she would hide.


Nonetheless, something kept driving her on and on

She knew she just had to keep sitting every day

Praying, meditating, praying, crying

Setting intentions for healing

Eating, sleeping, striving to be present, itch and all


The story does not end here for this being

She has not yet found that way around or through the itch

The restlessness comes and goes like some weather conditions of chane

Perhaps a strange wintery mix followed by a bright blue sky

Or a curious thunderstorm disrupting a warm and humid summer day


The being wonders if she will heal

Sits and sits and cries and wonders and mopes about

And then finds joy and nurturing and hope

Experiencing all of the states of the human being

Before letting go of the shell of the being, the itch only evaporates with the last breath



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