I have an itch on my brain

I have an itch on my brain.

It's mild right now. And don't you dare ask me how...

How do you scratch an itch on your brain?

Well you don't. That's the short answer.

But it's getting worse. I'm trying to ignore it, but I'm trapped in a conversation. And all I can think about is climbing into my own head and digging into my brain with a fork.

It's getting unbearable. The feeling of a giant spider climbing up my frontal lobe, and tickling my sensory strip.

Oh fuck I can't take it.

Mindless chatter invades my ears and irritates the itch.

I nod and smile. Try to wait a while.

I wish people would stop watching me so I could run head first into that wall.

An iron fist curls around the spongy tissue in my head, and squeezes. It delivers the force of a cattle prod.

Almost involuntarily, I rear my head back and snap it forward in one swift movement, as if to scratch the itch against the inside of my skull.

It dulls the sensation slightly. But the itch is still there. And everybody around me has gone quiet.

"Are you alright?" They ask me.

I brush it off.

"I thought there was a fly on my face" I laugh. But I'm not really laughing.

I want to nod my head again. Harder, faster, to scratch my brain.

But the people around me are wary. They act casual, but no doubt think I'm scary.

Or weird.

Or both.

There's an itch on my brain. And it never really goes away.