The Screaming Scenes Of Seething Sunsets

I write to escape the mural of memories
awaken in the shuddering seconds
when some image, face or object
stabs my mind with a flashback flare.

Suddenly the pain, anger, love or passion
is as real and intense as before
as if thrown back in time to that moment
my heart was in upheaval
and I was walking on hot coals
that burn with either hate or happiness.

It makes my muscle grow tight,
blood pressure rise to cause my temples
to throb and pound so hard.

In my brain I try to give this recollection
some life and soul,
let the turmoil inside creating knots
breathe through my fingertips,
taking some shape of another world or reality
so I can inhale a peace to replace
what is driving me to the edge of sanity.

Words come to subdue the anxiety,
stringing them together as sentences,
while I allow myself a change to stroll
where my imagination can find relief.

Feeling a flood of rage or ecstasy
being such intense waves I can’t contain
or absorb in calming thoughts.

The only pardon for the torment
comes from letting the storm
blow across a page,
then I exhale that postcard from the past,
tranquility sweeps over me temporarily
and I can sit without hearing my screams
echoing from another day.