10 Minutes - My Creative Process

It starts with a small blimp.
You know... like one of those air balloon, missile looking vessels.
It just floats around, in my stomach.
Waiting.
Small and sort of annoying.
I know it's there and I know what's going to happen next.
It's going to burst.
It's a small poof of an explosion.
The powder gets on all the walls.
Starts absorbing through the tissue and running into my veins.
My whole body is steadily engulfed in this toxic, addicting thing.
There is a few minutes of build as it reaches every tip.
It's like building up the courage to kiss.
Like the rise of anticipation as the rollar coaster climbs.
And for a split second, I'm hoping it never comes.
I'm hoping I don't have to step past the fear of embarrassment or vulnerability. 
Maybe I won't have to...
BAM.
It's burning and chaos.
Hurricanes, blizzards, windstorms, lightning, thunder, tidal waves, volcanoes.
And I just have to get it out.
That picture in my head.
The words on my tongue.
That drawing in my fingers.
And as long as I get the general idea materialized,
It leaves me be and I'm sitting exhausted.
Excited.
Longing for it to come back.