Impulse, need, desire to write, express, lash out and cut without mercy. But who will be watching? Can I choose? Oblivion is preferable when distance and space to fling and explode are necessities. I am so angry, and so much exploding with fire, and so far from everything I want to touch. So shaken up and spun around that I've no idea which way is up, and can't for the life of me motivate myself to throw water on the flames and watch them go out with a hiss and a plume of steam.
"You are the you you have been waiting for."
It brings tears to my eyes and I can't reach that place while I feel it so acutely in the space right between imagination and stomach, acid and storm-clouds. Turn lime green and let out a roar of earth-shattering and eye-watering intensity. Pull down your hood, elastic around your face tightening. Wait out the storm, blinking drops from your eyelashes, honoring the thunder as it hollers.
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