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."