Creative

Experiencing Emotional

It Smells of Pine Needles and Onions. 

I bury my head deep into my covers, taking a long deep breath, inhaling the scent 

of a day worthlessly spent.


Going Out

Ripples, ruptures, bursts. 

My stomach churns.

Stressors trigger attacks. 

Nothing exciting.

Really nothing new.

Just nauseated.

Overwhelmed.

Frustrated.

And scared. 

Scared. 

Of what is unknown.

But it creeps in, pores.

A feeling.

My guts. 

All I am.

Afraid to be useless.

Uselessly afraid. 

Fraid and fried, fucked up with doubt.


Pressure Builds.

Bubbles to the crown. 

Squeezing through your eyes.

Foaming from the ears, going down.

Leaching the veins, escaping to the brain.

A feeling strongly overtakes, becoming too much. 

Signals make their way from your spine to your limbs.

Conversations become so much louder, deep in your head.   

Doubt becomes pain becomes anger becomes frustration becomes passion.

Fires start to ignite, signalling hands to type, feet to shake, blood to warm, pits to sweat.

Fingers rumble, ripple, rupture, and burst the desk. Shredding it down to the bitter ends.

Thoughts are gone from the mind, emptied to the page.

Bones still shake with the excitement to move,

even though nothing is left to take.

Ends made harder by,

eager breaths

void of air.


When the Air Sounds Right

Freed into space, my feet move awkwardly, directed by squiggly air.

My mind leaves my body to go hang out with the wubs and the dubs. 

Drums and basses flock out in droves, shaking the fabric of space.

Ripping a hole to the universe governed by 160-180 beats per minute. 

Blended as a whole, the dance floor merges into one, mixing with gravity. 

Turning sweat to oceans, limbs to mountains, skin to sky, flesh to soil, mind to cloud,

and our souls to light. 


Lust Smells of Ripe Peaches & Love Smells of Sunlight.

The body burns reddish-yellow. 

With pleasure and joy. 

The head borrows deep into pits.

With desire and need.

The hands squeeze tight. 

With wanting and salvation.

The arms grab hold.

With inclusion and comfort.

The nose breathes in.

Smelling sweet lust with sweat.

&

The body cools to pinkish-blue.

With happiness and calm.

The head borrows deep in their hair.

With hope and internity.

The hands squeeze theirs.

With comfort and place.

The arms grab hold.

With mindfulness and ease.

The nose breathes in.

Smelling bitter love with honey.


In The Heart of a Melting Room

I confide in you. Warm air wraps hold of me, bringing with it a lonely calm. 

I battle the waves of steam, letting them in my lungs slowly.

Inhaling for four, exhaling for eight. 

Inside of me, only a reflection of the outside of me.

Interwoven and gently unfolden.

Interlocked, interconnected and inseparable. 

I melt into the fabric of the room, letting the wood merge into my arms and legs.

Inhales speed up to two, exhales match, both growing stronger every turn.

Increasing oxygen in the blood, feeling bubbles popping, rushing up. 

Inhales drop. Lungs hold on full. Chest stays risen at the top. 

Inhales. Pushing every last drop of feeling through, pours. Heat dissipates.

I let my body fall through the floor, exhaling as the vision falls even more. 

Exhaling, releasing it all. In every way and every end. Holding on as the stomach rests.

Exhaling, forcing lungs to compress. Disappearing and holding out as the soul lets rest