scratching your back
in an effect of the erotic
breaking nail in the range of quixotic
instead helping the bruise
with a band aid of a kiss
you say oh my love
I love to bathe in your blood


your mother scratches your back
tousles your hair
she say you need to get the infection off
the platonic nudity of you
though disastrous makes you wonder
how mothers and fathers who are good
know your scratch marks even though
you are no longer smooth as a babe


the exams are pressing like a pervert’s attention
as  the nods of  wet daydream at you
bugging eyes you feel to scratch
as the itchy fabric that clams your skin
and you scratch rawness for anxiety
blood makes you wonder why you had nails
for it is impolite to scratch others to bleed
but to yourself it is never mentioned it seems


the hydrogen cauldron like a viral sting
scratched at itself and relatives
it scratched and bellowed and foamed at the mouth
it puked its scratched innards
termed as “nuclear bomb.”


hiding the self
scratch away
these fetters of these covers
these letters that made you dumber
like poppy television you scratches like vinyl acerbic
and you follow the zines like vineyard maintenance
scratching underneath botox blunders and rash reason of pygmy-lions
I scratched myself out of the oystered egg of syncopathy

3 thoughts on “Scratching

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