Still as Starlight Reflected in Fountains
A little bit drunk and I’m walking home. It’s almost midnight and the world is quiet and dark, the air still a little heavy with early autumn mist. I’m exhausted and ravenous, dehydrated, achy; my body defines me tonight.
I feel heavy inside and out, like my legs won’t support me anymore, like my heart is literally weighing me down. Nothing is feeling right lately, and it makes me want to hide somewhere I can’t be found– buried deep underground where all I’d know of other people is their footsteps overhead, or floating out beyond the stratosphere, remote, distant, like a star or a satellite, maybe.
Lately, no one’s advice hits the mark, and I’m not sure what I need to hear. Maybe I’m too young, too inexperienced, too much of a loner to listen or understand. Maybe I have my own answers, and I just need a moment to breathe, think. It’s all too close, past and future, people all surrounding me, hovering over my thoughts. I quicken my pace and I feel them falling behind, lost somewhere in my wake. I’m walking fast, but the solitude makes me feel like I’m floating, suspended in midair. I’m stopped, removed, shining off the surface of the streets below without any physical presence at all.