I blow up, I blow up from with in and it’s clearly written on my face. It’s clear that my mind is ready to blow! Blow with distraught disfiguration from life’s pain. With the depths of darkness I’ve seen its not all too wrong that I blow. I blow up from within and as clear as day its written on my skin.

My body quivers as I blow up, the feeling starting in my fingertips. I don’t blow up in rage, I don’t blow through spitefulness and disdain. But I do blow through pain, my pain comes out coated in blowups and yells of who did what to who. I blow up on them them and then because the blow up is painfully killin me and it started from within. When no one came to find me, when no one realized that I’d been taken an broken by a broken man.

I blow up, that there is true, I blow up from within and clearly it’s written on the palms of my hands, a two for two. I blow up because of the misunderstandings, I blow up during my episodes of loneliness and dying hope. My blow up isn’t onset, its a long drawn out one that’s been suppressed and misguided. It’s a blow up that doesn’t come out as controlled as it should, because it’s hurt and hurt is dangerous especially when it’s misunderstood.

I see my blow ups coming from a mile away, it fills me up like a the water rushing from a broken Levy but I cannot stop it. The pain fuel that throws sheds when I blow can seep out, you can smell it in my pours. I blow up, i blow up from within…! -Donnie Sharrell

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