WHAT'S ON YOUR MIND?

i'm heavy
it takes me awhile to get out of water
gravity as the idea
that i am not floating
breathe
microscopic universes
poems coming out of nowhere
little voices singing about skin
crawling
turning sheet, imagining a white wall
this is not
death as a thing
my arms are waving at the sun
the pits are boiling over
glands swell
saliva becomes glue foam
does this remind you of anything
different
is not living
lazy
looking for a door in the ground
why a winged thing
won't dig
won't sing about magma
i am looking gross
then
my feathers change color
or wisdom becomes useful
and there is listening where there is sound
shouting
trees falling for no reason