He plucked the flower for himself,
And he was so happy to have it,
But then it started dying,
Day by day, petal by petal
He watched it turn to dust with an aching heart.
I tried pushing the walls,
Bruised my knuckles on locked doors,
Broke my back trying to move mountains.
And When I was completely broken,
And when I gave up all control
All illusions of control,
When I was free falling,
The wind lifted me up
Like a feather, I was swaying in the air,
flowing and swirling with the wind,
flying with the wind.
With a towel tied around his neck
Like a cape, he flew.
He fought the monster he read about
In fairy tales, when he was feeling blue.
He rode his imaginary horse and waved
His wooden sword like a white knight.
He was going to be a hero, a savior,
He was going to fight for what’s right.
This morning I woke up So full of joy
Yet feeling so light, almost weightless,
Flowing in the air unmoored from the floor
like a feather or pollen or music or perfume.
Surrounded by chaos and precariousness
Yet so perfectly at peace
At the thought of seeing you soon,
At the thought of returning home to you.
As she walked with confident steps
Towards the life she wanted,
Looking poised and prepared to the world,
Her mind was cluttered with muddled thoughts.
A gradual qualm had taken over her,
Does the end always justify the means?
She visioned it happening differently,
And what if the life she wanted
Is not really the life that is good for her?