Crashing

This thing keeps happening in which my expectations build upon the apparent energy I have moving forward. I feel myself lift up and become more of what I had been, no longer constituted only of the limited material beneath me, but also of the infinity above me, churning through me.

I have become a thing of power and roar at the exhilaration of it, only then to discover that I have reached a pinnacle that cannot hold itself together. Remembering who I am, I crash down face first onto the foundation of the world, sprawled thinly upon its unforgiving surface, then pulling back, meekly, to accept what I was before.

People walking along, enjoying a day free from work, gaze at my self-destruction with amusement.