Feeling

I feel like breaking down.
I feel like ripping my hair out strand by strand, feeling the texture and chucking it powerfully to the dirt.
I feel like balling my fist till it shakes, and seeing all the crumbling objects that stand in my way-hearing the snap.
I feel like screaming, feeling my sad voice crack in throat, shaking the walls running of the windows-ringing in my ears,
I feel like feeling my blood pulsing threw my veins. In sync with my heart beat.

But I can’t.
I have to pull the smile back up.
I have to pick up my black throbbing heart, and crawl back to my “happy place.”
I have to cheer and be the shoulder to lean on-to hold up my hurting friends. But when they lean I’ve already fallen.

So at this moment my cold fingers scramble for the trigger to end all this.