Oh how it itches....

I need to get rid of it. Shake it off, tear it off, throw it, chuck it, and fling it far from me. But every time I do, it comes right back at me. If only it had the decency to at least come back “appropriately”; if there ever was an appropriate way for it to come back. No, it has to creep its way back discreetly, and pop up where I least expect it. Then a whirlwind, a hurricane, a wildfire breaks free and its not as if I don’t recognize it, but for some reason it always comes in different faces and forms. And for that same unknown reason I always welcome it with open arms, even when I know I’ll want to get rid of it, shake it off, tear it off, throw it, chuck it, and fling it far from me afterwards. Now I’m caught up in it and can’t find the small crevice of escape. I seek refuge this time as it is with an unknown face this time; but how long can I hold back? I gave in in less than a day for this it. Goes to show how bad this it is. God, give me a sign of how I’m supposed to get rid of it, shake it off, tear it off, throw it, chuck it, and fling it far from me or if there’s a way for me to stand my ground and face it.