bored and thinking.

I can roll my mind into a paper ball, and tuck it into my pocket. Deep it will hide, and fragile it is. My emotions, my feelings, they can fit down beneath my feet. Like chewing gum, burdening the tracks of my shoe. My soul, if that's what it is, I float on it. My body, the shell I use, grips it with all intensity. It is a tormented buoy among stormy waters. My home- these waters, is what keeps me sane. safe. secluded.