Fostering the Festered Itch

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When we get a mosquito bite,

We are told not to scratch it,

Yet with a little temptation

We find eradication

From that itch,

A bittersweet bitch.

Soon that little pest

Of an itch makes a nest.

Your body is soon consumed

Cover in bites, you made a new wound.

The only way to relieve your pain

is the very thing that makes you relive your pain.

Stuck in a cycle,

You can no longer blame the mosquito.

All it did was plant the seed,

Yet you nourished it. Thinking you could

Over water it. A passive-aggressive act.

Forgetting that water is the very thing

That allows the seed to thrive.

Even though you know this,

You have grown into a habit.

When there is an itch, you scratch.

Drip-Drip. Like water to a plant.

You just grew your own poison ivy.

A foster-parent to the festered itch.

If only we chose not to feed what only grows more hungry; never full until it consumes us.

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