Itch Chiara Evans | Graduate Student, Pharmacology, WCM

Itch

Chiara Evans Poetry

Sometimes there’s a slight itch And I have the compulsion to scratch But I remember it’s tender there, I remember How it got there I know more eyes than mine have seen it And people have probably noted it But I choose to ignore the itch most days I wish it weren’t there Sometimes I feel It gets tighter Almost suffocating, blinding All my thoughts turn to the feeling Of skin and flesh rippling open and Bones shattering under the surface Sometimes Sometimes I keep it hidden Hiding it in hopes others won’t see it It’s a constant reminder Of the battle raging on Sword versus sword Steel reverberating against steel

If you have the same tools, it’s just a question of skill But I’m fighting with my weak hand Sometimes it itches And I’m reminded of you Telling me it will fade over time It won’t be this red and dark forever You took my hands in yours And when I think of that It doesn’t itch anymore And I’m reminded of you Telling me it will fade over time It won’t be this red and dark forever You took my hands in yours And when I think of that It doesn’t itch anymore