Volcanic waves
roar on by again.
A series of perturbations
in the once rational brain.
Flips and turns within my stomach burn,
like an acrobatic firefighter on fire
as my thoughts
race, multiply, amplify,
on the path of no return.
Hot beads
skid down my neck;
Every drop
An incoming train wreck.
Alas the Devil
Turns the ****
Stops the faucet of disaster
For me to feel sober.
To the World I am
but an ugly child,
A mistake, a creep—
Awkward—
Those murmurs so loud
So I
Shut my heart
Close the door
Dim the light
Lie to myself,
"It's alright."