Untitled XV

Tranquility is a dish served
by my own hand.
No one gave me intricate recipes
with complete instructions
for how to cope
in an environment that is
beyond an acceptable decibel.

Sometimes my very soul
leaps out, shaking off unsavory
ripples of tactile goo attempting
to cheat its way in.

If I can't be comfortable,
I will be a stuttering,
shaking tree in the shit-storm
of unpredictability.

I will lash out.
I will churn the winds.
I will collapse inward.

How does that make you feel.