at lunch

i had to shake the anger of the day. it clung to me like burnt skin. i wanted to run away. i always want to run away. fight or flight? i'm a flyer. fuck this. i'm done. gone. but i know better. i've learned i cannot cope that way and dwell in a healthy peaceful existence. alas, i pretend like i'm running. i wandered until i found roads my tires hadn't graced. the road squirmed with the river. my bare feet found my way to her rocky rooty reliable banks and there i deposited all my anger. i studied the river's dance through the trench she has etched all her years. she flows downriver, upriver, and in swirls like bathtub drains. she's a home to innumerable kingdoms. she cleanses bodies and souls alike. she heals dry throats and dry bones. she quenches all the fire that comes her way. i brought to her my wounds and the kerosene that still soaked my muscles. i cannot allow them to fester from the outside in or allow the fuel to burn from the inside out. i put in my feet in the water. my tush on the rocks. my eyes fall into her currents. my ears perk to the fowl that sing in the branches of the tress that soak their toes in her cool giddy water. i give her all my pain. all my rage. all my energy that wants me to run. all my kerosene. she soothes my burns. she floats away my rage. she dilutes the kerosene. she erodes my energy to love once more. and i'm saved by her yet again today.