A Big Mess

I like to think of it as a time bomb that has no timer on it.

I always hearing it ticking away.

And when it explodes, I am left with all of these dang words on the walls, soaked into the carpet, stained on my chair, splattered on my clothes, and spewing from my mouth.

So, I projectilely vomit, wring the soaked rag, shake off my clothes, and scrape all of those words onto Prose.

It seems to be working so far.