Tiptoe and Grab the Benadryl

Hives.  I get them without trying.  It is one of my many talents.  I am, at this point in my adulthood, allergic to a lot of things.  Sometimes, seemingly, air.  I found this while rummaging through files this morning and thought it appropriate.  I suppose it is not unrealistic to compare the attempt to examine ones' character as an act which can cause an allergic reaction... ah, character illumination via the spirit, which can make one itchy.

(she doesn't want to talk about it) 

I break out into hives trying to access you.

I itch and welt up as a victim of blood-sport, a

Whipping victim or recipient of masochistic self-flogging, depending on what you

See as pain or purpose.

Hives rise with each attempt to stop the habit, stop the fierce loathing striking bites.

The marks show up when I try to touch you, when

I want to get close but have to sneak up,

Impossible to sneak up on part of oneself.

I get (hives in my tummy.)

I feel hives in my mind, welts, as if beaten from

The inside, whipped from the inside, the deepest

youngest me does not want to be discussed.  She is not happy

With this intrusion.  She will react as such for how long? 

For always?  For now?  I can only keep trying, keep

Gently pleading, trying to take the whip out of her

Small hands.

Sem 6.15.2012

SaraElizabethMcNeillyAmmon 1.30.2013