Barefoot

I could walk barefoot on the moon. I could breathe easily, In space, On earth too. I let my shoes disintegrate. Holes all over my mind. Relaxing in a lawn chair. But the lawn is gone. I could stand barefoot in my house. I can’t stand it though. I can’t, can’t stand it. The person in the lawn chair. I forgot it was me. Touching a window. As if it was glass. It’s more than that. It’s me. I could walk barefoot on the beach. And find seashells. Falling from my hands. More and more precious gems. Falling from my hands. I could do that. Or lie on a beach chair. Dying. No beach to be found. It’s just me in a crater on the moon. I used to be able to breathe. Don’t question those things. It’s me. I could hear static on the tv. I could be a burden on everyone. I could have made breakfast a little earlier. I could have gotten that new toaster so I could have toast. There is nothing better than, Ice cream that melts then freezes and melts. I wonder if outer space is cold. Or maybe it’s me.