springtime

your heart as the earth;
broken, each piece a
tectonic plate.
it quakes,
trembles and quivers
and the plates move.

mostly, subduction and
convergent.
but tiny pieces break off
with every tremor.
they can start in your head
or control your torso

both equally painful
(convulsions,
like electricity passing through
a grid
wreck your torso
in small bursts
and long
back-arching strikes)

the sunlight brightens.
tints subjects yellow
and creates
3d cardboard cut-out nightmares
in front of your very own eyes.

springtime brought the sun
and the sun, in turn
brought you nightmares.
and every walk outside is
struck with a myriad of
buzzing bees
telling you to close your eyes
in fear of the scenery popping up
and reaching out for you.