May 16.

I don't know what it was. My day hadn't been a good one. Anything small made its way into a state, a state of difficulty. I reacted to things in weird ways, people noticed. Their questions brought it to my attention, my reactions too difficult to hold my attention. I didn't want anything today, or does time count? Does time count as wanting something. I wanted to feel time, but instead I couldn't and that in turn opened my senses at the touch of the atmosphere. There wasn't a weight, there wasn't anything. Myself and the atmosphere merged in atoms, like a pellet of baking soda dropped in water. Now I know why I've cried today for no reason; I simply felt every ripple, a vulnerability.

Ah I breathe in now,
a new breath that I draw in for a longer time.
Trying to force out the old air,
bring in the new.

Recently my life changed,
and I've felt like that for a while.
New air.
Full lungs.

I forgot what change was
lost a little in the middle,
enjoyed the hell
but now I've remembered

I will remember, until the new
grows old, and I will then
forget again.
But right now:

My lungs are full,
my breasts rise and fall, over my chest
and I don't notice too much
I focus on this late autumn air

How the chill remains in my nose,
making it run a little
How my back straightens to let more in
How I can smell the very essence.

So I know right now
that i am
Exactly where the world wanted me
And that is precisely where I ought