I feel it
coming back to center.

What should I compare it to?
The pendulum of a grandfather clock.
      (Does it stop? If it stops, is it broken?)
      Then no, I don't mean that.
Vibrations that play tricks on your eyes.
A clanging cymbal—
wavy like heat, like energy—
finally becoming still. Solid again.
Though it was always solid,
and only seemed to disintegrate
when being struck, hard and
only when making that shrieking sound
like panic, or crashing. Anyway,

I witness that phenomenon
     (I think they call peace)
where you feel that nothing is the same,
but on second thought
nothing was wrong;
and the night when I grasped
at the sheets,
pulled down the curtains
and screamed into the dark
was a fever dream
where I had lost and could not find

But I am awake now,
and all here. 
My feet will never again
step on yesterday—when I laid down
(when I felt myself split in two, but I remained as one)—
but it is today, 
and mostly the same.
I think I could probably
many things