anxiety - a free writing experiment

there's a faucet in my chest that doesn't turn off. i called the plumber but he doesn't do house calls. maybe there's a way i can reach inside and turn it off. i've tried for years but i can't find a keyhole, can't find the way in. maybe it's on the back of my neck where i can't see it, maybe someone else could open it up for me, but they always say that you have to do these things for yourself, no shortcuts, no easy way out. maybe i'm stuck with this. maybe it will never go away. what do i do when i start to overflow? there must be an emergency shut-off valve somewhere.

there's something so fleeting about relief, but maybe that's why it's so sweet, they call it sweet relief because it is so fleeting. but where there's no justice there can still be calm and where there are no answers there can still be serenity and acceptance. 

there is a stream of cold water constantly flowing inside of me but cold water feels nice sometimes. could i learn to love this? to lean in to this and live this? like Sisyphus and his rock? is this my boulder to be forever rolled up the incline of my insides? it's always there, like a hunger, like a rainstorm in my guts, but rainstorms although dangerous can be beautiful, like lightning striking wet earth, ozone and petrichor, the smell of simultaneous creation and destruction, lighting strikes inside me, fizzles down my throat and lands in my guts, sets the sea inside me to crackling, sets the ocean ions aflame with untapped energy.

i am a maelstrom. look into my eye and you will see calm but i am on fire on the inside.