F is for Formication

The itching never stops.

I can feel something crawling across my skin and underneath it. Countless tiny feet marching across me like my veins and arteries were highways. Tiny mouths biting at me. Tiny stingers poking and prodding at me.

I have scratched until there was blood underneath my fingernails, and it did nothing to help. I have showered until my skin turned red and withered from the heat, but that didn’t help either. I have sprayed insecticide down my throat, but there were no answers in the clots of blood I vomited up.

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