He lays flat on his back.
His arms and legs feeling so stretched and far away,
Almost out of reach.
Gazing up at the blue sky and white clouds,
Finding animals and shapes,
That are continuously dancing in the sky,
Always in motion.
He feels the grass poking against his tender back.
He wishes it hurt,
But it doesn’t.
It almost feels
Nice.
It feels like he’s sinking in,
Deeper and deeper,
To the world beneath him.
But he doesn’t look for a way out.
He accepts it.
He watches as the cat chases the fox in the sky.
The look of distress on the animals faces makes him almost feel,
happy.
Only they aren’t clouds anymore,
His hallucinations make him giggle.