Traveling at 53 on the road towards home and I let my windows down.
The cloying summer heat suffocates me and it's a morbid sort of grounding.
My lungs seize with the scent of bloated roadkill
but at least this asphyxiation is physical
giving me a reprieve from the mental chokehold I'm usually stuck in.
It's like mother nature is saying;
if you keep holding this in you'll fester and rot like these animals stuck to the pavement.
Decaying from the inside out.
But I can't let go.
And the storm builds inside me.
A stark parallel to the humidity that's heavy in the air trying to burst into a storm
but not being allowed to.
I hope when the rain finally comes it washes away all the blood stains
because I'm ready to be clean.