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.