Perspective kicks in

I looked up

at the sky

and felt like I was falling.

I taste the blue black,

try to hold it in my mind.

Lungs crash

to the concrete -

so much has changed

since last week:

all the leaves are brown now.

Everything is less hidden.

The sky holds my eyes.

Is that where I go when I die?

Out of the cardboard box

and into the incomprehensible: 
an unknown empty

so vast

I cannot fit it

in the lining

of my stomach

nor keep it

in my throat

nor hold it

with hand or mind.

As my eyes stare

I realise

maybe this

is what I was searching for

all along.

Maybe this is my pause in time,

my break from life:

the breath in

before

the exhale.