I am a hurricane of emotions,
When there’s no reason to be.
I have been both raised and razed
In a privileged society.

Thoughts and feelings scratch and pull at my paper-skin.
They bite and sting, seeking attention.
They are the inventions of my inner intentions and contentions.
There are no conventions, only misconceptions.

I am tired of always being logged-in,
Locked in, bogged down,
Flogged by blogs, worshiping Internet gods.
Sometimes I wish to disconnect and protect my own intellect,
To be of the select that reject the subsect of the creatively derelict,
Who abuse their electronic power and confuse it with prowess.
But it might be too late.

I feel alone when I am in a crowd,
And when I am alone I feel suffocated by my own self.
The silence is loud, proud,
Covering me like a shroud
As it lauds and applauds it ability
To debilitate me.

I strain against the gains of my unease.
My ability to please waxes and wanes.
The bane of my existence is my own name.
I am to blame.

I try to escape, to fix myself,
But the tempest keeps pestering, festering,
Nesting in me.
How can one tame a hurricane?

How can I quell the storm in my veins
Where the insane rain reigns,
When all I can do is complain?