Pay Attention now

A whooshing sound in my ears, shaky legs like trying to stand on the ocean. The alarm clock doesn't sound like mine, I awake not sure who I am, or where, but this life is unchangeably mine. Four days have passed in a vacuum of early mornings and late nights, of a quickly disappearing tan line and a devastatingly cold New York, the return has been all sorts of unkind. My vision goes blurry before I reach Delancey. I count down the hours. 

Hoping to land, eventually, on the ground.