Guilt

It started as an itch.
         Resting by my ear.
        An irritation, if anything at all.
         Just a scratch would do.

But then came more.  Like fireflies.
          A burning white inside my mind.
          At last the throbs.
          Inside my stomach.
The knot a growing cobra.

Remembering, I scratched my skull, and then my mid.
           And scratched.
           Much more.
   
Throbs and pains and sticks in eyes.
           Everything came clear.
I had lost the right to live. Or more, to die away the pain.