beneath the surface.

i put the pen to paper
and the pressure building within
and fizzles away…
in to tiny bubbles of carbonation

its like a relief valve on the relentless storm raging within me.

the storm that never truly ends,


it may quiet to a soothing lull,
clouds may give way to sunshine,
for a time…

but in the end, the storm rages on
with thick, black clouds
heavy with the weight of a thousand tears not yet cried.

thunder rolling in,
the imposing boom evidence of the electricity that’s built,
and escaping in violent spasms,
charged by the build-up, no longer containable

and the storm rages on…

until those electric strands channel their way
to the page.


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