I walked through a life, a numb body, the me belonging to that skin, those limbs, hovering somewhere in the air. Sometimes I was just divided by a few paces. Other times, I’d shoot up into the sky, floating with the clouds. Not angel. Not anything. Displaced from human senses, my body would eat and eat, trying to taste something. My hands little shovels for food. I’d fill till I vomited. Still divided, today, I press my palms together, call me back to me. I press and ask the Not I for help. And I thank. I thank.