Transpired Travel
I'm starving and inching towards deep waters and sudden breezes that would knock me over if it weren't for the head on my shoulders and the pride in my stomach. I'm crossed and fighting for my identity as well as my heritage and though I'm unaware of where I stand I know where Im not allowed. Sliding inwards and having no shell of my own, I drift further and further from your eyes, I am your distress signal, a dreary light in a terrible sea on it's back and unable to breathe. "It's overrated", he trembled at me as I traced our travels from antartica to the center of the earth (we had hoped the heat would leave our finger prints in the snow). Our knees were dusty and our bones ached for the sun to embrace our sleepless words. If it weren't for our slick tongues that moved faster than our tracks that dissappeared behind us the tones we echoed would have taken over our brains. Resting wasen't an option for us, determination boiled in our bodies. We wanted salvation, but our heads were in the clouds looking for heaven.