Do you ever feel floaty and tethered to yourself by a long wispy string? Like if you close your eyes for more than thirty seconds you would splinter off into all new directions, loose and unfamiliar?
I think it means life is on you, not the other way around.
Somehow you lost gravity and pieces of you pull away from their middle, the one wearing sensible shoes and carrying Kleenex.
Your center flipping inside out with its sleeveless vest of neurons showing. Electric impulses passing through the air instead of inside your own skin, getting caught up in this thrill to disconnect and roam.
Everything's buzzing but nothing makes one discernable sound, even when you listen.
I want to reel myself in with restorative sleep and wake up with both feet on the ground and yellow leaves of the highest trees in my hair.
The perfect combination.
This morning, I woke up after six hours of really good sleep feeling grounded. Am checking for leaves now.