It’s 2am and you’re lying in a field of grass.

You close your eyes and focus on the thumps of your heart,

Echoing back at you through the dirt.

With each exhale, you sink further and further into the warm earth,

You cannot tell where the ground ends and your body begins.

 

Cicadas crow in the distance.

You open your eyes, the stars stare back at you.

You run your hand over the exposed strip of skin above your jeans,

Your belly is cold against your warm hand.

You run your hand over the hills and valleys of stretch marks,

stop on the puckered skin of a healed scar.

The earth pushes you back up,

You feel the bite in the wind as blades of grass tickle your spine.

 

Your phone vibrates in your pocket,

your mother says good morning.

You whisper goodbyes to the stars as you stand up 

and begin your walk home.