Anxious Axioms

Some days.
My molecules feel like flying apart.
Keeping my atoms assembled feels like a full-time affair.
Ions excited to bump around inside my body.
Buzzing like a ramshackle wasp nest hanging by a dangling, vibrating twig.
Sent swinging by the angry, kicking toddler who lives inside my ghost-of-a-heart.
Sub-atomic
Axiomatic
Nuclear bomb
Automatic
Quixotic notions about therapeutic potions
Hopeless solutions for mind pollutions
I won’t make it through this time.

I gotta stop drinking coffee.

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