If it feels like I’m a million miles away,
it is because I am.
I listen to the people around me
with wind tunnel ears
while clouds roll endlessly through my skull.
I have a throat filled with cotton fields,
my words always swallowed with the seeds.
My lips curve in ocean waves
endless, the same, on repeat,
a head bobbing in the water.
I try to see life with a sharper lens
but the fog never leaves my head.