Fireworks

You can feel the burning, aching, yearning in your chest as it tenses up because there's no more oxygen.

You come to the realization that everything has become a routine. You don't really see anything anymore, life's a blur but the clock is still ticking. There's still time.

The scenery never changes. All the colors have washed away. The sky and the grass blend together now.

You're surrounded by a jungle of dull brown brick buildings, chipped sidewalks, dusty books, and faces you've seen a million times.

My heart thumps, barely making a sound. Grey muck runs through my veins.

I want to explode. I want to feel.

I want my emotions to erupt into a fountain of vibrant, colorful confetti.

But there's nothing to light the fuse in my soul. Nothing to make me feel alive again.

No spark, no flame, no trigger.

Staying in one place for too long numbs me.

I'm a leach, sucking the life from everything in my path.

I'm a car, and this is my fuel- lights, noises, colors, words, and feelings. I run on mystery and adventure.

Absorbed into every pore of my being, I take it all in, until there's nothing left to satisfy my hunger.

There's no more oxygen to keep me alive.

It's time to move on.