I Need your convection

I need your convection

I’m bloated with electrons
the aching poke of inevitability
the paper cuts of isolation
the throbbing scream of loneliness.

They rise and heat inside me
puffing me into wisps of worry
wafting out into the ether
and shocking everyone with my charged tongue.

I need your convection

the freeze of my failure
the cool of my pressure
the rise of my atmosphere

to give way to a rain of random thoughts
squeezed dry from a place of storm
a necessary cycle of nature

a natural process of me.

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One thought on “I Need your convection

Talk at me while I eat

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