in my world,

the moon rests on the leaves without a tree.  

the birds don’t need anything to rest on. 

the plants find themselves wherever they find themselves most comfortable.  

everything is so wrong, 

i find it right.

as i wander through something so abnormal, 

it becomes my normal soon, 

everything that was odd,

becomes odder when normal.  

familiar with the randomness of the environment i feel no urge to fit in 

this world allows me to do as i please.

my favorite is the cactus’ that touch the clouds, 

for it’s my normal.

i emerge myself within a world of change, 

change no longer scares me,

i am change.