You take what is circling you
and you push it down
into the spaghetti knots
of your stomach,
the lid put on tight.
All of that hurt
you start to cook it.
It bubbles. Splutters.
A pressure cooker
ready to burst,
and then you run with it.
Unaware that you are
shaking the contents to the limits.
The stress of the day
fires up
and before you know
the flames lick higher, hotter
the heat is rising so fast
the pressure is building faster,
like a squatter
has taken over your guts,
and bolted the doors shut.
As those flames get higher
it is like a ticking time bomb
and time is about to expire.
You feel like your gonna combust.
That hurt and pain
which you stored, hoarded
so deep
now bubbles up ferociously
in the boiling acid pot
and separates,
a chemical reaction
that creates even more heat.
Steam whistles through the lid
screeching like a wounded animal,
but you just place your headphones on
let it simmer down for a while...
But it doesn't. It just gets more wild.
Now those bubbles are raging
expanding, exploding against
the walls containing every nerve ending.
And as time is ticking
the pain is upstaging
the moments of joy
you see distantly fading.
And BOOM...
The contents of doubt,
hurt and pain
now become a torrent
of rage and anger.
They spread so fast,
splattering out across the room,
your friends,
and anyone that was
close to the blast.
So now you have to scoop up
all that remains,
sponge down the walls,
spray clean the floors,
all whilst the hurt
builds up once again.
If only you'd talked,
shared your hurt, halved the pain,
lightened the load then maybe
you would have seen
the sunshine
that comes after the rain,
but now your view
is splattered with
all the remnants of your rage.
Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff
continue to do this.
Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
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