am tired, trapped,
fighting against the impervious softness around me,
and there is just me to blame.
I need to get real again.
I need to feel the cold of the morning,
squint at the brightness of the sun,
wash my face in newly formed dew,
…make do with a little,
when surrounded by a lot.
I need to find country,
and sense again,
my place in this world.