The Itch Only The End Can Scratch

The Itch Only The End Can Scratch

Thinking about you makes my stomach ache,

Not butterflies, not nerves, but real pain.

My doctor keeps saying that it’s fake,

This broken love transformed to my bane.

I think of us as fresh leaves fall,

Picnics and holidays awash with you.

I watch myself break down and crawl,

The pain gut wrenching out of the blue.

You’re in my head, in every dream

This wasn’t love! I want to scream

I can’t even think straight anymore

I hate myself down to my core

I thought I knew better than to let you in

But wrong I’ve been, again and again,

I couldn’t withstand the minds desire,

I abandoned my heart into your fire.

Listen, I saw you just the other day,

Laughing, smiling, feeling gay,

Another man hung on your arm,

But read this my dear, without alarm.

You aren’t the reason for my departure,

Rather, this stranger is deathly ill,

A knight cast out with broken armor,

I’ll take my leave, but you pay the bill.