The Dark Falls Different Here

I lost my earphones in the rush of a renovation.

I’m sleeping on my bathroom floor tonight.

I love my bathroom floor.

The dark falls different here.

The glow of the window feels like a memory.

I think you have to allow yourself the happiness inside of the messes that find their ways to you.

I think the clichés are right.

I think you have to feel the schizophrenia.

I think you have to feel yourself going absolutely insane, before you can truly help anyone else.

I think you have to lose your breath, alone in your room, over and over again, I think you have to find it in the same place.

You have to glide down to the bitter bottom of yourself, below your heart, below your lungs, below your feet, and memorize the steps back up.

Practice them.

Practice them.

And then teach them.

Don’t breathe in.

Breathe out first.

Empty out, first.

Hold it.

Hold yourself at the bottom.

Hold.

Breathe in, expand, all the way up.

Hold it.

Hold onto it.

Again.