Blurred Words

You know that feeling you get way deep down inside in the pit of your stomach. It feels like the cold of the night rushing in unexpectedly. It taste like a sour grape limp and rotting in your mouth. Smells like the bottom of an lifeless pond. That feeling of overwhelming despair?
I hide it well. In the curve of my smile, the high pitch of my laughter. In the causal stride of my walk, but my body is in knots. Twisted as if wringing the last drop of water from a wash rag, I couldn’t dare stay out in the open for to long. At any moment the despair I’m controlling so well is going to break out of me like the opening song of some theatrical musical.
I can only hold on for so long.