Hello Madness, let's hug
The itching, I can't stop it.
Is it the sheets? the towels?
I'll bathe, but not dry off. I'll sleep on the floor, the couch, the bed, only not in the sheets, in a sleeping bag.

I'm sick. The coughing, the sneezing, the dry scratchy throat. Scratchy? Scratching. My nose, my chest, my fingertips- the itching.

I'm fine. My knee hurts less than it did three weeks ago. I ice it. I heat it. I lather it with icy hot and rub it. I stretch it. I rest it. The itching. The scratching. I tear off the sheets. They are the poison. There must be little bugs everywhere, I just can't see them. The Internet. Bed Bugs search. No. Madness.
Drink orange juice with a chamiolle chaser. Gargle salt water. Bathe. Must bathe. Will the water stop the itching or will it intensify? The new soap. Why "icy blast" this week of all weeks? I'm allergic to the soap. Stop the soap. Stop the itching. It's not stopping. Laundry. I wash the sheets.

Cough. Cough. Cough. Scratch. knee pain. I'm fine.

It's funny. I try to laugh and no sound comes out. I smile. I scratch some more. The timing.
I run to the mirror. Only I don't run because I haven't run in a week. I look. Who is that guy with the tiny head and the maniacal smile?

Spies. Not bed bugs. It's drugs. I need more ointments. The smells. Icy Hot. Anti-itching cream. Vick's Vapor Rub. They mix. They mix with the tea and the o.j. I can't smell them. My nose is clogged. Overwhelmed. I'm undone. I'm itching. I'm scratching. I'm rubbing.


I'M FINE!