It was back today,
that prickling scent of ozone,
that foggy sensation
slowing my thoughts
and adding dead-weight to my head.
I'm not losing grip again,
no,
I'm just viewing the world.
It seems like every time
I sweep my gaze
across an object or face
it's wearing a mask I've never before seen.
This feeling's not new,
in fact it's an old friend.
I beg it to return,
to help me see this peaceful world again.
Everything crystalline and perfect,
it's a new understanding
hidden beyond confoundment.
I fear it,
because I recognize only that which I have viewed before,
but I always wish that it had lasted just an hour more.
A flower now seems wilted,
while another blooms.
The one constant,
it's always you.