The Catharsis Will Linger Like Petrichor

Like bullets or knives or something brutal,
Noise pierces through either side of your skull.
It neither ricochets, nor grazes walls,
But meets itself in the core and explodes.
Like fireworks, dynamite, something fatal,
All conscious thought is obliterated.
Neon erupts, like watching lightning storms
From behind eyelids - see the veins ignite!
Tingles rise, like ghosts of rain on your flesh,
And lyrics strike like thunder upon each
Notch of your spine. A booming crescendo,
Cloud-mind flashes with half-enlightenment!
Fragmented codas - all wide eyes, all squalls!
Hear the wind's cracking howls: your house falls down. 

The End

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