Angry labored breathAll I can hearAngry labored breathI don’t remember what I’m angry aboutSomethingDoesn’t matter…I turn back to my math bookOne problem leftI can’t think,My mindCrowded by a radiating heat,Like lava ready to explode into the airI need clarityI stand from my recumbent positionDad asks me something about whereI am goingI barely hear himAnd don’t answerI rush through the front doorRough concrete hits my feet,Shocking me back to realityI hit the ground running, runningIt feels like a few milesIt is only a few feetThe spiky grass of the front lawnGrabs at my feetTripping over the exposed roots, closer, closer to my beloved tree,My clarityI grab the bark and lift up,My limbs flying over practiced handholds and footholdsClimbing higherHigherNot registering the rough, sandpapery barkScratchingI finally reach the branch where I sitDreamI let out my breathNot realizing I had held itScalding hot tears hesitateAt the edge of my eyes…Unsure of what to doA stinging sensationI stare down at my hands,Red and scratchedI close my eyesLean against another branchThe anger leaves meTears trickle down my faceCooling down the red sweaty messMy face has becomeMy crowded head clearsLeaving a glowing radiance of clarityFor a moment there is nothing, but the brilliance of silenceShared by the tree and the wind