Powerless
It is a strange feeling to be powerless. The earth begins to crumble beneath you. The air dissipates from your lungs. You are sinking slowly into sand and quickly falling into infinity simultaneously. You are still alive, but every molecule that you are has become erratic and confused, swarming about changing you on a spectacularly tiny level. Each time this feeling floods my being, I am different than the me before. It is a strange feeling, being powerless. Each time you rebuild yourself, you lose something. Though these somethings are small and seemingly insignificant, they are impactful; powerful. The key is to remember each time. Perhaps we can collect those pieces of us if we remember. We can become powerful. I do not want to wither any longer. I want to find myself, to keep it. I am lost, but not forever. What a strange way to feel.
