Tidal waves and hurricanes

Sometimes the only way to properly describe a feeling is to call it a tidal wave

I do not feel things in trickles or raindrops or teaspoons

I feel them in tidal waves and hurricanes

Raging floods of my humanity that sweep aside rational thought, crests of emotion deep enough to drown

I do not simmer, I burn

Foam boiling over my rims until it extinguishes the very flame it just birthed

I do not worry, I obsess

And sometimes I don’t love, I possess

I breathe chaos into the world, stain my sheets with tears, wake up to the sun and radiate joy

I do not feel things in increments or tally marks or inches

I feel them in miles and mountains and shouts

I do not know sadness but cross paths with despair

Linking arms with elation, releasing monsoons and earthquakes and avalanches of life

But never just a spring rain

I do not know what it is like to be mild

How do I water myself down without dissolving away?

I exist in extremes, in contrast, contradictions of proportion

Full of everything at once, overflowing with emptiness

I do not feel things politely, with a soft voice, please and thank you

I feel them with volume and fervor and depth

I do not cry in trickles or raindrops or teaspoons

My eyes burst with tidal waves and hurricanes

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