I want to

talk about it but I don't know what

to say.

There's too

much

going on to figure it out

and to sort through it.

But sorting through it

makes it harder

and the process more difficult

and it makes me freak

because I can't think anymore

but I'm overthinking at the same time.

It feels like my brain is

overheating

and exploding with fireworks

but not the pretty kind.

Not the kind that change colour

or make the sprinkling sound

or the big ones that turn small.

They're not the kind of fireworks

that you feel

when your crush touches you

or when you finally kiss

the person you've been wanting to kiss for

so long.

They're the kind that

no one likes.

They're too loud,

and they're an ugly colour.

Or they're the ones that

fail—they don't

quite make it

and it's money and time

wasted.

That's how my brain is

all the time.

No stopping.

No end.

Just goes on forever;

thinking

and wanting to say something

but not knowing what to say first

because you know,

you know,

that if you say the

wrong thing

you'll fuck it all up

and you'll ruin the happy

and you'll make it sad

or angry

or unstable.

There's something wrong

but there's no way to figure it out

because what's wrong

is not really

what's wrong.