Burning Itch

It grows like a cancer,
Picking apart the stitching.
Nimble as a dancer,
Ever burning, itching.

The clothes will fall to pieces,
Resolve will shatter wholly.
While the burning increases,
Sanity drifts away slowly.

Thread lays torn and ashen on the floor,
Buttons cracked, tarnished, chipped.
Her sunken eyes of utmost gore,
Flesh has flayed, and ripped.

There is no soul left anymore,
A grin so wide, and teeth so sharp,
Burning, itching forever more.