I feel weightless.
As if I could lay down on the grass and somehow carry myself to the moon and beyond.
Looking down beneath me are the trees swaying back and forth with ease while the grass, in slow motion, silently follows.
All part of an orchestra.
Slowly lifting my arm towards a cloud, my hair flows to my collarbones and gently moves from behind my neck all around my face until it stretches far from reach.
I hold a piece of this cloud
pressing it firmly against my chest, it poofs with every heart beat.
I raise my chin upwards to see a dancing trio of shooting stars with elegance.
The higher I move, the clearer the stars become and you notice the sparkling trail they leave behind.

I'm at my highest, my most sincere, my most painless form of being.
Holding the last piece of my excruciating eternity, in the left palm of my hand, I slowly open my fingers and let it slip from my grip and let it fall to the deepest underground of the Earth.
Slowly but surely, I interlace all my fingers together pressing them against my palms as I rest them on my hollow chest.
Eyes closed, sewn in place.
What better way to descend.