Reflective and still I am today, though there is a current below the surface, unseen by the passing eye. If you look closely however, you may see a slight disruption in the otherwise gentle consistent flow of life. This disruption runs deeper than most, only those attuned to my essence would realize that something is not right. Not wrong exactly, but not as it was meant to be. As you reach to touch, warmth should meet your hand. As fingers break the surface, you almost expect simply the benign heat of a loving heart and not also the sharper, hotter sensation of agitated energy within. The conscious mind is always aware, yet adept at hiding its tumult from not only the outside world, but from even myself. Though, in times of great distress, hurt, sorrow and anger, my reason is overpowered with the intensity of feelings beneath, and the course of life changes, becoming rapid and unpredictable. You would not want to venture near on those occasions, lest my banks flood with overwhelming pain.
Eventually, hot tears stream down and add themselves to the increasing depths of my anguish, they cannot be halted by you ar I. There is a sadness so complete and a confusion so dense that you will not find a way to speak to my inner self. I do not see the slate gray clouds sweeping in from the west; my unfocused. tear-filled eyes seem to look into the turbulent swirls and eddies as I kneel at the water’s edge with my head bowed. I cannot hear the gusting wind whipping through the tree branches overhead, only that of the current, running swift and strong. I choose not feel the rain that falls hard and fast, driven by the gale to land like a volley of liquid icicles on my head and neck, soaking my hair and clothes alike. I am unable to smell both the dampness of air and of earth, since my nose is congested with weeping. I do not taste the rapidly cooling air of impending change; instead a warm, salty solution enters my open mouth as I gasp.
Written by Brittany Tyrrell, 2018 to the present