I pick and scratch and stretch
Mutilate
Infect
Bleed
It drives me, separate
From relief
Akin to hunger.

Manual breathing
Counting
The minutes
The bites
The steps
Call it a quirk
I name it demand.

Addiction
What is an addict…
There is no powder
Or liquid
But still I feel ants under my skin
Until the ritual is complete.

Compulsion is one thing
Obsession another
But when the two meet,
The horseman ride
And I don’t know if the end will come.