The excema on my scalp knocks rather harshly on the doors of my consciousness and reminds me of the war that is raging on inside.
Like a bubbling volcano, a consequence of an inferno deep, deep below.
My dry lips, cracking from the pressure of all those thoughts locked inside.
Because even though I have a woman in my life that doubles as a therapist, the linearity of language simply poses too heavy a constraint on a man, a mortal.
Give me the ability to speak my mind fully and all at once, and you will see my problems and the world’s vanish in an instant.
But until then, how lucky I am for having a wive with two ears.