you are hot air.
humid heat breathing in and out through the vents.
puff puffing heaves of warmth.
exhale a sigh.
the walls sweat droplets of humidity in the spring.
roll down fresh
and smooth.
the floor comes undone.
tack it down again and again
it will still shift.
the couch becomes a trap.
seep into it and melt.
irritable and bothersome
your jaw locks and your throat swells.
no water can quench that thirst or quell your irritance.
run away.
let the heat beat you down like a bitch on the street.
splash in every puddle.
touch every leaf.
hug every tree.
you are sisters
you and spring.
she gets you
the ptsd you
the bipolar you.
the run at 2 am
and catatonic morning you.
the you that can't end the chaos
so you compartmentalize.
the you that only feels
and swallows your pain whole.
the you with your mouth sewn tight.
she won't judge.
she only spreads her sprouting arms and welcomes you.
all of you.
with a weary river song
and you follow it into the flood.
