Sometimes I feel as though my emotions are smothering me.
A vast array of thoughts and feelings seeping into every crevice. Bleeding into my chest and congealing along my diaphragm. A cacophony that crawls up my esophagus. I need to scream but I'm drowning and gagging all at once on this beautifully caustic tar made of dreams and desperation. Nothing escapes.
I need to run, to wail, to dance, to sing, to crawl into some desolate cave inside myself for shelter. My body feels too small to contain the terrifying universe expanding within me. Overwhelmed by this incessant itch to entrench my fingers between the bars of this cage and tear open my chest. To cast off this oppressive flesh casing and be capable of bearing the intensity of this soul.
How did I manage to become this creature with emotional nerve endings reaching so desperately outwards? This exposed network of hypersensitive receptors drink and drink and drink like tangled roots. I need a valve, a drought, a long cold winter of hibernation, anything to help purge before I burst at the seams.
