Are You Itching? Poem by Delilah Miller

I never feel THIS itchy,
anxious and aggravated.
No.
I sit still every night.
The sunshine is never too cold;
never too long has the moon estivated.
So I don't find my way
through incessant tides of pity.
I'm of a stable, ripe species,
with no reason to hate this city.

And yet,
there's no connection to linger on,
saying the phrases she wants to know.
Only mistakes, to double back upon.
I won't tell another soul
the projects I've devastated
and the words I stole.

Rainy days are easier
because I've got a strong back.
And yet,
the sky music has a lull,
Makes me think
Can you get me off your mind?
I try to get off track and
my nerves get too full!
My legs tingle, my lips smack.

My belly is twisting;
it has secrets to spill soon.
The itch is an awful ache
to reach a conclusion.
I've waited patiently,
just for life to turn its back
and leave me
with no surprise or intrusion.
All this time and finally I get it;
human isolation is a delusion.
One full moon,
fertility rising through the stomach,
overflowing a soul
and you'll need to feel THIS itchy.