there was that something

There was that something. That certain something. A tingling at the back of my consciousness slowly scratching its way to the surface of my irises till it will, surely, gnaw at my very own lips. I can't grab its claws, stare it in the eye and ultimately send it to oblivion. There is that fear of losing what is familiar though it only serves to give me this itch. Impulsively, I ended it. Telling myself that there is nothing that I need save for myself alone. And that's how it's going to be from now on, alone, without that certain something, gnawing at my own lips. That very same certain something that cradles me close and keeps the nightmares away.