I have an itch I can’t scratch

image I have this itch I’ve been dying to scratch. But my hands are tied.

Debt, responsibilities, rent, and adulthood. They’ve robbed me off of my youth, and now I am left with an itch that’s turning into an infection, a disease of sombreness. I want to heal it. I yearn to cure it.

I long to be above the ground. I wish to see the clouds beside me. I want to feel the breeze of nature. I ache for the sand beneath my toes. I have this itch I can’t touch, and all I can think of instead is how I’d scratch it in the past.

I keep telling myself, “one day again.” And here I am, assuring myself again with “one day.”


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