Things That Spill

I'm attempting to give my shapes names--the solid things, the ones with boundaries, clearly definable, like words, like names. But I'm having difficulty with those that don't have borders, that are not clearly definable. That abstract, that fragment. A nameless anxiety that crosses over without warning, without consent--quite intense. Because though anxiety has a name, it incorporates many feelings, many emotions, many things that happen, and it just... goes. Does it ooze, like magma? Does it spill, like milk? Does it roll, like a wave? One of many in the ocean. By the by, it does, lest we remember to cry.

We store our daily rhythms in our bodies; these repetitions maintain us, hold us together, our structures. When you place an object with mass in water, the surface level rises. It creates ripples depending on the velocity. If you have too much water, it might spill over. And then what happens? When everything spills?