Pudgy Indian

I had a rough night last night. Still am. Not sure how to write about it, or even if I should.

Brown water of my sister,
not all that far away.
As I cross the spans of my favorite bridge
I will make offerings and pray.

She can't take away the pain,
but she can wash me
and make me feel whole again.

trigger...
trigger...
trigger...

Wash it away, sister
If even for a moment.
Sometimes it's like a stone
tied around my neck
and the river is rising.
But everything is lighter
when carried by the water
...i hope...