Usually, I think that where I am is where I’m supposed to be,
at least for now.
Here, in this place, with all of its snow,
with all of its people.
And then, sometimes,
I wake up and I wonder where I am.
Life feels so strange.
I can’t explain it, except to say that I am like a sponge,
absorbing everything around me,
All of the dirt sits on my surface and then sinks into my pores.
I just want to rinse off my skin with hot water,
and crawl under a blanket made of safety.
But, I’m not quite sure where to get one,
since I’m not quite sure what that is.