If Only I Could Really Fly

Yesterday I lost it,

The feeling of opening.

Of expanding outward

Like a flower

Or a mushroom cloud.

Exhaustion killed it.

It was a good feeling

The one that died.

It felt like being me

Or becoming me

Not free from caring

But free from worrying

Like I usually do.

 

Today, I revived it

A miracle, you might say

Except its you that’s killing it

A second time.

You and your silences

As I talk too much.

And the fact that you

Mean too much

To me.

 

It seems I was never free,

Just caught in an illusion

Of flight.

Reviews

[A.Lee]

You have a gift for capturing thought pattern... And not rambling lifeless thought either. Well written.

[Ed Hart]

(remember those chains of paper strips and paste, you made as a girl; that's all they are)...you describe this very well...