Get Higher
November is a longing month. Tonight is a night I can feel them unfurl, the cold seeping just a little into my fragile bones. Move them, warm them. Wind picks out individual pinions, stars sing calling songs. Get higher, get higher.
Legs a little sore from walking too much, but I can still run, pavement underneath my feet, grass, pine needles (dreaming, dreaming now), as I push my arms outwards, lower my head and...
Dear brain: I understand you have strange delusions. I understand you think that I should have wings. I even understand, as long as I buy into your other delusions, why you think I should, why I don't, and that that's okay. What I do have is worth it. (It is. Really. But.)
Can I please be able to sleep on my back? It hasn't been this bad in years.
Legs a little sore from walking too much, but I can still run, pavement underneath my feet, grass, pine needles (dreaming, dreaming now), as I push my arms outwards, lower my head and...
Dear brain: I understand you have strange delusions. I understand you think that I should have wings. I even understand, as long as I buy into your other delusions, why you think I should, why I don't, and that that's okay. What I do have is worth it. (It is. Really. But.)
Can I please be able to sleep on my back? It hasn't been this bad in years.