Irritation.

Irritation beckons once again,
only this time it kidnaps my soul.
Bare and suffocating beneath
the bag of wool. Starving
you can see
in it's eyes.

Hear it's stomach roars to be
released. It's tired too.
Ready to devour it's prey.
My body and his body too.
Anguish and fire seems to burn
through every pore.
No life.
No more.

Patience.

It is the only solace
amongst irritation.
As it passes over
another past. Here it whispers,
"come closer", and you wake
to see him again.