Sometimes my skin swirls out into the nothingness.
I fly up into the stars and look down
at the same moment I gaze up into the churning gray vapor.
Sometimes my chest caves into itself.
I feel the way life can be turned inside out
while disappearing into different dimensions of being alive.
Sometimes my mind wields tools made out of moments.
I splinter away from corrupt containment
alongside roots that dig further and deeper than prescribed.
Sometimes my feet keep moving away from my body.
I sense how a line can curve upon itself
and sneak up on tomorrow without having happened first.
Sometimes.
Some times.
