an old itch that needs scratching

some thoughts

come

to you on crutches,

bandaged

and bruised,

the wound healing,

yet still red.

how you like to pick

at the scab

of old hurts,

wrongs

done to you.

every now and again,

you have

to pull back the Band-Aid

and scratch it,

you dig into the old wound,

until enough

is enough,

and you're through.