Scratch

Rub rub, smudge smudge, scratch scratch.

Day after day, you’ve made me betray and display my soul. Then you watch the show, point at my knots, do or do not applaud. These bent plots trick me to my rare implosions and your probing finger is inching closer to my whole.

No, wait; rub rub, smudge smudge, scratch scratch.

These penned thoughts strip me to my bare emotions and your probing finger is inching closer to my soul. Mine are just resting on the edge of the coffee table, trying to seem detached. When they can’t, they rub rub, smudge smudge, scratch scratch.