Lost at sea.

Clinging on to air, I'm unsure where I am, lost in a haze of confusion, uncertainty, exhaustion talking over sanity. My anchor is afloat. Where will I make land?

It begins with simple things, a morning cup of tea, a familiar tune, a book, sight or sound. I hate routine but in safe harbour, I am again found. One foot in front the other, one step at a time I will get to where my feet can stand the ground.