It starts outside you, a brush of an arm
or accidental glance indifferent even
and then there is no helping for it
scratching the itch they say spreads it
makes it worse but it really travels
only where it’s made original contact
occasionally it’s delayed getting under your
skin waiting on and responding to your own
chemistry and the building up
of a defensive response is what inflames
things so where did it first
touch you it will stay there a while like all
things it will run its course it doesn’t
matter what you do once you’ve got it
Now I feel itchy!
That seems to be the general response. This poem may have been a real mistake on my part. But I was told it was not contagious.
Then why am I scratching?
I’m sorry but I got itchy too. It evokes the contact dematitis beautifully. I have never suffered so sympathy to those who do. Post poem on Facebook