Sometimes I realize how close I am to the ground.
So close that I can see very small stones and pieces of dirt that I know taller people can’t see.
Sometimes I become very dissatisfied with myself and the fact that I often wear jeans twice in a row without washing them.
Sometimes I see people talk.
Their lips are moving in a fish-like motion.
They even look like fish…
large Angel fish, the kind that always rip the other fish to shreds and pluck out their eyes.
Then in the tank, you have these eyeless fish floating through the water.
They lack any real direction until they bump into glass walls.
Sometimes when people talk to me
I watch their teeth and their tongue moving back and forth, up and down.
Their words are soundless. Their eyes are bright.
There are no Angel fish to pluck them out.