Fizzy Static

Crush the flowers

frantic treading

I devour them

with my hands

Jump, jump, jump —

I plunge —

bile rising in my throat

Burning swirls

lift my hair

fizzy static

eats my shape

Down, down, down —

back to earth

pressure loosens

in my chest.

Shattered blooms

sweaty hands

I lost my temper

I lost my breath

A brief poem born from an exploration of rage.

April was a busy month, but not so busy that it kept me from creating.

This piece began as part of a poetry anthology organized by a local publisher, who proposed rage as the central theme. I started exploring my own relationship with it through a couple of poems. Unfortunately, I missed the submission deadline, a small misunderstanding on my part.

Still, I don’t regret the time I spent. If anything, the process gave me a deeper understanding of how rage lives in me, something I tried to express in this poem.

In Fizzy Static, I explore the eruption of rage, how it breaks my grounding, dissolves me into space, and slowly I bring myself back to earth.