The Burned Shadow

stockvault-lava209698Mine is not a lava lamp panic.

It doesn’t merely grumble and agitate and occasionally bloop out a ball of molten yuck.

Oh, no.

Mine angrily churns, roaring in anger, spitting out white-hot bullets of insanity and terror. It sets the world on fire, maliciously devouring every speck of calm in my entire world.

And I skate above the cauldron of panic on a tissue-thin plate of ice borne only of medication.

It’s scary how close I am to burning.

Some mornings (like today) I can almost smell my shadow burning.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

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