Red lights blurred in the distance and I can almost hear you say, “stop- don’t go that way”. None of this is easy, you know. Nighttime doesn’t haunt everyone- I’m living proof. I can’t stomach the morning. Please tell me there’s someone else out there who screams at the sun.

I’m driving down winding pavement that wraps it’s arms around the cornfields. The earth is crying from all the damage we caused- each raindrop tempts me into drowning, but I practice my breathing so that I never forget how.

I’m sweating like an anxious sinner. The flood welcomes me like an old friend. I wrap myself in it’s embrace and tell it how well I’m doing with breathing on my own. And I hate swimming, but somehow this works. This doesn’t require me to tread water. This is how I begin to let go.

I beg the rain to anoint me so that I can turn into something holy again. It cleans the air, so maybe it can do the same for me. I’m feeling helpless in all the wrong ways. I fight shallow breathing in shallow waters so that I don’t waste the space in my lungs. This all remains a dream if I decide to never wake up.

Suddenly, the rains stops- the earth screams back and it all hums, gently still. Steam rises from the pavement like ghosts and I inhale their spirits with grace in knowing that they’re now a part of me too. I turn left at a red light because no one is around, anyways. -AMT ©️