The stream refused to stand still.
it chipped at the roots of trees, and the toes of little adventurers.
I find myself choking from lack of air
Pure oxygen won’t do, without hydrogen hysteria is only a matter of time.
In hindsight I’ve forgotten the feel of the earth underneath my foot
like a hamster running in circles, chasing fool’s gold. Bewitched by the sun.
And I know I have to breath, grapple at the element with both nostrils
because it’ll make me better, It’ll feels less nauseating. I’ll survive a while longer.
They say it’ll get better,
The stream longs to stand still
to hear the working nocturnal beavers
still to the rustling withered leaves
But today, currents are high.
the anxiety will explode from the base of my ribcage
the strictures at the back of my throat won’t disappear
Now I’m at loss for words
my heart is overflowing but my glass is empty
somehow dark emotions pour out of my chakras
Currents are sky rocketing
and sky is painting all shades of crimson
I’d like to stand still
to hold back the worries, that’s gnawing and spitting at my ankle
I’d like to hold back the fusty dam from over-flooding.
They say it’ll get better, I’m tired of asking when.