I
am
a bottle.
Have you ever
filled a bottle with
Pop so much that it over
flows and sprays everywhere?
Put that into an emotion. I am a bottle. Filled with emotions that
threaten to be spoken, Thoughts that when I try to speak all I taste is fizz. Pointless. When you shake the bottle, you're ruining the way I carefully avoid eye contact and cautiously choose certain words. Ask me what's wrong and you're now opening the bottle. Get ready,
I am going to explode.

Energy sizzles under my skin
Teeth clenched
Muscles ready to dive right in

Even water sits like a stone
In my stomach
Wants to come up from thoughts alone

Poised and ready with nowhere to go
Hands folded
I'm feeling ready to explode!

Anxious about what will come next
Eyes wet
Nothing to do but to progress

So tired but trying to go on
Body sore
Naps are nice but it won't last long

Sometimes I feel a little too happy
A little too intense
For no particular reason at all
And it scares me
Because I feel like I might explode
That the blood pumping through my heart is building pressure
And I know it is unsustainable
I know that I am burning a little too bright
And I am scared that the world will catch on fire
Or that something will happen to extinguish my light

Who do you call when there is no one to call?
Your last friend that catches your sense of humour, dies without a sense of humour
The friend that generally made up all of your contacts

Calls beforehand of daily progress always went answered to a mother who no longer exists
They were followed by a friend who absorbed everything said
These absorptions poisoned the well of humour and goodwill that you befriended in the first place

Your contacts list might grow in the days ahead
But the optimism that that idea requires to believe in  and the failed rate of your previous confidants make you feel you should protect all
Keep everything within, never explode.
Hopefully implode.