Wounded

I want to lay in fields of wheat
the feeling of nothingness under me
heavenly dirt beneath my feet
I want it to be a part of me

I need the air to fill my lungs
need my eyes to adjust to the sun
brighter than I can even imagine
I need to breathe

I am a car crash
laying at the scene of the crime
skin folding and unfolding
mouth opening and closing
I have begun

I am spinning downward
arms outstretched
I feel the gravity pulling at my chest
the weight on my shoulders falls off at last
I am at rest in the grass