It's Just What You Do...

Words from Hybrid Salon and Burned at Salondawega

It’s just what you do. Stop time.

It’s not mine.

This awkward bumbling

Fumbling in the dark

Like something is growing inside of me

A rage

A tumor

A balloon

Pushing my organs to the side

Pushing and making room

But i don’t know what it is

Or if it is benign or cancerous

All these words and visions and ideas

Caught in my throat in my belly in my lungs

Burning

And feeling like it all will burst

at some point

Burst through my skin and explode

And it will either be beautiful like

Fireworks

Or caterpillars

Growing wings

Beautiful uncurling unfurling

Taking flight

Magical shit could happen

Or

The release will kill

Epidermis stretching to its breaking

Skin peeling away, a slow, sickening groan as everything ends or

Like depression and anxiety and unspoken hopes

Whispering soundless less in my ears

Tensing my muscles

Hunching my shoulders

Sheltering in my mouth, my molars

Exploding from my heart

Like that movie aliens

Dark and terrifying

Blood and screaming

Whatever happened to a dream deferred?

Oh, it grew and grew and choked and killed

Stifled by florescent lights, it grew in the dark soft quiet of your heart

Your guts

Your lungs

Choking you because you

swallowed too hard

That blinding florescent comfort made you soft and boring

Is this it, is this it, is,

This

It

This is it, this is it, this is it

Release and life or release and die

Either way, it’s coming out

There isn’t any other way.