Go Home

I can feel my brain wrecking. I have ways of checking. A quick check, what could it be? The door, the window, whatever I see. I always find new ways. So certainty follows me throughout the days. Never wandering and always patient. The power of checking is heaven sent! Checking as I march along. Then feeling unsteady, the feeling is strong. There is no weakness in feeling dizzy. It’s good to keep busy. Checking the zipper on my backpack. Checking the residue of my snack. There’s nothing embarrassing about crying outside. But I need to go home, I need a ride. I have a feeling my house disappeared. Because I didn’t check my pockets while my eyes teared.