RASH

It itches

Like a coarse sweater

rubbing harshly against her delicate flesh,

biting angry red welts

into her once calm surface

She fervently scratches

knowing the moment

she releases her fingers from it,

she will find remnants beneath her nails

and the prickling will continue to exist

It itches

this new life she must live

and she's run out of ointment