100 Ways to Say This

My World

I sit on the end of my bed, 

Book in my hand, rocks in my head.

And the World swirls all around,

painting my life, from sky to ground.

Were i to step to the floor,

bare foot on tile, half out the door,

I'd be just as alone, 

just as before, so far from home.

In my head i laugh all the time,

I smile and am happy, i don't need to rhyme.

Because i can talk to you all,

without the expressions, unafraid of the fall.

But now I collapse on the bed,

book in one hand, rocks in my head.

For if the weight were to leave,

I'd drift away, to where i can breath. 

I can only imagine how free,

lonely, at peace, My World would be.