I'm High

I'm High.
Not really.

I'm high off of life.
The melody of a church hymn,
The laughter of friends,
Smelling the scent of a rainy morning in summer,
My soul takes flight.
I'm high.

I'm high off of knowledge.
The words on an open page,
The philosophy of science,
The algebraic equations squeezing my deductive skills,
My soul takes flight.
I'm high.

I'm high off of beauty.
The wings of a butterfly,
The full moon in fall,
The canyon stretching into miles of colorful stillness,
My soul takes flight.
I'm high.

I'm high off of music.
Percussion pulsing in my ear,
Guitar filling my voids,
Vocals singing out my deepest dreaming desires,
My soul takes flight.
I'm high.

I'm high off of wind.
Breeze streaming through my hair,
Air filling my ears with noise,
The sensation tickling the truth of thought,
My soul takes flight.
I'm high.

I'm high off of love.
Words whispered in longing,
Passion aching in my chest,
The joy lifting me off my feet and spreading me like butter against the sky,
My soul takes flight.
I'm high.

I'm high off of sleep.
An abyss of obscurity,
The peacefulness of silence,
The dreams opening my fears and laying them in the moonlight to dry,
My soul hangs in space.
I'm suspended.

I'm high off of deceit.
The adrenaline coursing in my veins,
The satisfaction of a lie well told,
Hiding the evidence where only I can know what it means,
My soul descends.
I'm low.

I'm high off of sadness.
Crying at the end of a tragic book,
Watching as the world collapses,
The death of a friend who was finding what he believed in,
My soul descends.
I'm low

I'm high off of power.
The surge of triumph in my eyes,
The feeling of false importance,
Feeling oddly above the rest of the world as if you were too good to be a part.
My soul descends.
I'm low.

I'm high off of greed.
The sight of my wallet full of money,
The taste of chocolate in my mouth,
The closets full of clothes that I hate and never wear but keep just in case,
My soul descends.
I'm low.

I'm high off of society.
The gossip buzzing like white noise,
Tears of the person trodden by the more powerful,
The images proving the theory of divorce, hate, pain, and suffering of a witless celebrity,
My soul descends.
I'm low.

I'm high off of death.
The murders of a courtroom drama,
The horror movies playing in the theater,
The mindless violence of forgotten wars that should not have happened in the first place,
My soul descends.
I'm low.

And suddenly I am back where I started.
I'm not high.
I'm not low.
I'm on your level.
How does it feel?