best kitchen

My doctor told me I’m a shape-shifter,

His notepad said something like: becoming, destroying, and re-creating.

I cried on the car ride home,

Pressing the pedal into the floor until it felt one,

Until I felt one,

My own,

Whole,

97 mph.

I sped until the highway became a service road,

Like bay into the sea,

A red light met my gaze and reminded me of who I was,

Compartmentalized.

I cried until it turned green, 

I cried because it was green,

And not any other color but itself,

Green.

Why can’t I just be green? I screamed at an unresponsive double yellow.

I sped past my exit,

No home for the wild,

wolf with beach waves

I drove into the night,

Until my town was a distant reflection in the rearview,

I picked up Chinese food on the side of a foreign road,

“Best Kitchen” flickered in neon lights in the front window,

but there Must’ve been a blown fuse in the “s” and the “h”,

“Be t Kit cen”, it blinked

I found comfort in it