Dysphoria

One of the best things about blogs is that you can put anything you want to on your blog. I just wrote a poem, so I’m gonna post it because I feel like it. Then you can experience one of the best things about poetry (mine, anyway), which is that you don’t have to read it. I have some great links down below on the left…

Dysphoria

This psychic itch leaves no peace.
It aches when lovers hold hands, snuggle close and touch lips; a hand on her butt, the little arch of a woman’s head leaning close.

There is no scratching it, reaching under a turtleneck, or behind my back where my bra fastens and my fingers don’t reach. The only way to overcome the itch move my brain away from my body, sex, now to esoteric, spiritual, material and not connected to me.

It itches in the ladies' room, strong now, can’t ignore it.
Still can’t scratch it.
Forget it. Focus on not my face not my hands on chocolate.

Chocolate is the same in any body, melts in the mouth to forget.

Beautiful woman and the itch goes deep that could be me could be not not not Look away, the sun is shining, blue sky smiles.

And that cute guy, the itch reaches deep deep a hollow
in the belly dancer deeper no escape.

No nails, no fingers can scratch this itch, no, it takes a scalpel.
Just want to scratch.

Make it stop.