The realities that live in our head are our own worst nightmares that we can’t wake up from. A droplet turns into a whole tsunami, and all we can do is ride it out, holding onto ourselves amongst the tumble and the violence. Red and blue flash back and forth in my minds eye, increasing speed until I can’t take it anymore. I stew in my own darkness, and the darkness that surrounds me and hope for it to swallow me whole. I am too much to take in, and everyone must protect themselves from the sudden outbursts and severity of the creature that lives inside my mind. Or maybe there isn’t any creature. Maybe I am the creature. Am I to blame for the ugly inside and my sharp edges, piercing and causing blood to pour out of my mouth?
Dominique Rispoli is a 24-year-old writer from Wilmington, DE. She recently finished her first book of poetry called, “The Waiting Room”. She loves Disney, classic movies, and vintage clothing.