High places feel like home.

My whisper is an echoing roar,

each reverberation a reminder that I am indomitable.

I summit mountains,

march through bolted doors.

I am never expected to tolerate the intolerable,

I am rooted in my convictions.

I crowd surf on the support of my peers,

an army of voices in unison,

cradling me,

lifting me skyward,

ready for levitation and other ordinary things.

My feet never touch the ground.

On these days I am invincible.