When you’re flying high but falter,
you fall and cannot stop.
This is touching ground.
The floor of your ego is quiet, boring, very plain. Breathe here.
You may cry,
you may look for truths,
but you’re just here to remember
that underneath it all,
after you’ve accomplished, and flirted,
knee deep in trophies,
you are still just you.
And for this moment you need to know
just you is plenty.