Sometimes I need out
of my self too crowded,
crushing my mind;
a coconut bound to burst.
I break out
to a sea of open air
with express access to sky:
the bearer of the stars.
I’m safe on the grass
two sprints into Oakley field
my breathing slows;
the human returns.
My arms go up
reaching toward the beacons
searching for a ladder
that the ancestors missed
anything to take me away.
The world runs, I stay
an hour, maybe more.
the grass tickles my back;
I’m too distant to notice.
Something calls me home
I carefully listen
as my name surfs the petrichor breeze.
A hand pulls me back.
Back to the grass
Back to my body
It itches
A tingle I cannot scratch.