Lemon

The world is sharp
and I don’t want to cut myself on its edges.
The world is bitter
and it makes my lips pucker and gasp.
The world is fast
and I am blunt, slow and confused.

The fear is non-specific, nonsensical.
Too many inputs, too many people.
They’re so chaotic, with their free will and their actions
their unknowable motives.

Don’t hurt me! Hurt me?

I am closed, tight.
Shut up like an undercooked mussel.

I stretch my muscles
but the painful effort
has a cost
and leaves me sore, and raw.

Like an unsealed cut
vulnerable
to the bright sting
of this lemon world.