Pre Quarter Century Prose

Theres a ticking bomb before turning 25
It's not the fear of growing older less marriageable more cynical less understanding more closeminded less fresh more jaded 

Its more about the less is more worry

that i wont know enough

that i have to know everything

that there is a growing gnawing craving animal within me

with sharp teeth and furtive, restless claws

tucked inside a warm snug cavity with rock

and dirt and mud and gravelly gravel all around

dying to get out,

to escape,

to jump around and split some skin and taste something new

to absorb it all through newly pinked raw skin and breathe through enlarged pores

alive and fully aware that there this isn't enough,

no its not,

theres a whole world out there that i have to devour whole

but actually swallow in parts

chewing up the nubbly bits

i don't know enough and i need to know everything and 

keep feeling like everyone i meet knows something

knows nothing

that i already know feel think and need to share question and understand faster better clearer.

(Please don't squirrel at me for the dotted 'i'. I know my grammar. I also know Emily Dickinson.)