NEW WRITING:

He scratched himself ruthlessly. His arms and legs were scored with long and short lengths of lesions where his bitten uneven nails ploughed their way over and through his skin. He itched all over, he always itched all over. He relentlessly ploughed across his face, his throat, chest, stomach, and groin. He ploughed across his neck, his shoulders, back, ass. There was no stopping him, there was no space or time on his body that wasn't ploughed, that wasn't scored. He had a demon within him that was searching and scratching to get out, and there was him - on the outside searching and scratching to get in. It was a marriage made in heaven and in hell. A marriage that saw no idyll, that saw no solution, no rest.