The Rash

The rash pimples up my spine and wraps around my rib cage. Tiny little red, sometimes purplish, bumps itch and sting my side. I scratch at them, and then they start to burn like a fire on my skin flaming my clothes away. I try to tell myself to forget those bumps, but no amount of convincing seems to work. The bumps have created their own neurons of special attention in my brain. With every itch and focus on these bumps, I begin to feel my spotted rib cage protruding, as if it is growing with pride each time I think about it and worry, verging on panic, about the origin of its speckled surface. I imagine these bumps growing on each individual rib bone and jutting outward, an internal disorder not merely classifiable as contact dermatitis.