Balloon

A balloon, that is too big. It is tense and taut. No wrong movement. It will explode. Once it explodes, air floats out. Not so concerning. Maybe. But the sound is. I know the sound. It is a naked, dumb, yet piercing Tkash! I know the sound. It is high, very quick, short. It begins and its already over. The brevity is its most bothersome part. If it were longer, I’d have a moment to adjust. Unpredictable. It comes without warning and Tkash! It’s soon over. Very true. But it continues in the ears! Heart in race. I don’t want the balloon to explode. It keeps gaining volume. The air won’t stop feeding its overstretched, thin skin. It will burst. I don’t want it to burst. My chest is tense. Like a rubber. Stretched and hissing. No advanced warning. Here it comes. No, not yet. But now. No, still not. But now? I don’t want it to burst. My hands press against the ears. I can hear the sound. I hate the sound. Still no burst. Do it, damn it! I want you to burst! It doesn’t burst. My chest expands and shallows. My face races in faded jades. My eyes dance blue. I wish the sky to be filled with heavy clouds full of ions. Shoot that lightning bolt down to the earth. Balloon, burst!