Tension
Tension, tension, tension.
A cramp without pain.
An itch I can't scratch.
A hunger that food cannot satiate.
So many things around me and in my thoughts,
not enough room in my head for it all.
Bright lights, petty fights.
I can't figure out what I want to do.
Scream and shout and cry until my throat burns and I can only cough out measly croaks?
Run away until my legs give way and I'm lost and dazed but finally alone with my thoughts?
Stimulate with objects and textures and pleasant things until the world becomes nothing but the five senses?
I don't know.
I just don't know what I want.
All I know I'm a ticking time bomb.
Close to exploding.