Starry night

I think I want to live somewhere flat. I’m tired of all these ups and down. Even the tiniest hills look impossible to climb. And the journey down the other side is always way too fast. Gravity laughing at my fear.

I have become blank, like one of my own thoughts. That infamous polar bear eating a marshmallow in a snowstorm. Memories becoming separate entities from the images that form them. Orbiting myself like a hunk of space junk, caught in a steady pull, but going nowhere. I am my own moon, always watching from high above, trapped in my own insignificance and yet forever at a distance.

And so I sit, too tired to cry, casting up my wishes for a starry night, so that I might find myself again.