balancing on the tops of trees, I
see everything, still,
in clarity, in the sharpsmooth confines
of my frustratingly stoic pre-frontal cortex

I sluggishly struggle through  the snarls and tangles
of my "emotional conundrums"
to quell the misfiring synapses still bouncing wetly within.
no pressure to focus
no tactile center to make it stop
the speeding car we nearly didn't miss
the feeling of this space
gently and dangerously adrift.

the shakes of a savior
who feels like a fool.

I  really didn't want
to have to skip school.