SecretPoetry

Glacier-fed, you could have been my final destination an early grave waiting to swallow me up. I got caught in your rapids, your eddies, your current, like a cold electrocution that had me hyperventilating: asphyxiating on nothing but air. But I fought the Reaper in your waters, scratched and clawed for blood, for purchase, grasping for dear life with fingers stiff and cold from premature rigor mortis. And as hypothermia chased me downstream: a piranha or a shark smelling blood, you taught me a lesson in self-preservation, and the mindless struggle to survive.