(don t'panic)

***

each time i wake, up, with the blinds wide shut, feeling deep within my marrow some unfathomable itch, it.
smacks of prose and poetry and rhythm
and words from bands that i can't stand like, don't-panic:
bones, sinkin like stones, all that we fought for...
each time i plummet into youcouldcallitSleep, my throat swathed with scarves and solemnity, with!
shouts of daytime things better left unsayed
scratchy itchy idioms unscathedh, unsoothedh, unsungh
i clip my fingernails at night and lend them to the moon
that, by day my talons dulled; that, by night my talents told
still
each time i wake, up, with the blinds wide shut, feeling deep within my marrow some unfathomable itch, but.
crimson inking ten crescent moons
and ten talons tipped with Scratch because this!
pricking Itch fathoms deep within, deep beneath my creeping secret skin.

***