I’m not sure how I’ll feel when the earth stops rotating.

I reach out to the catch whats falling with me – I don’t want it to fear, because we always land on our feet. Even if our bones break. It’s just how healing goes.

I’m not the parts of me that I don’t understand. My mind is complex. It’s a web of fears and needs and questions. Can you answer a few? Like- why does the moon only set in my dreams? Why can’t I feel comfort in a place that feels so familiar? Why do I levitate when the world digs its claws in the small of my back and tells me to jump?

I’m just rotating on the axle with everyone else. There’s no edge of the universe and that scares me the most. And when I think about it too much, I fall apart. Count

the cracks in my ceiling from where the water meets my window pane. Read the same stories so that I can feel closer to every character and fall in love with them all over again. Grip the pages and hold onto them for my life. My life. My life feels like a sad story, sometimes. Each chapter holds me up. Keeps me from slipping.

I’m not sure when I became this way, but I am. I just want to sleep in a dark spaces where my thoughts don’t echo. I’m scratching at a fever in my brain because I’m not sure how I’ll feel when the earth stops rotating.