To be young and fresh feathered
At the edge of trying's nested weaving
To be perched on a rim
A thought away from freedom's wings
Never to unclench those twigs of thought
What if I couldn't learn?
What if I found the ground
So much quicker than I found the sky?

To escape
To carry the sea in a colour
And paint the world in prints
Hands and heart and feet
All sticking out of sleeves
Remembered for what they are
Seeking metamorphosis
And in that pupal soup to find
Gravity's solution

I'll have an ear on the world
And hear with virgin mind
The questions
That have no answers
The ones I long to find.

Not Anymore

I don't dream
Anymore
I wouldn't know what to do with myself.
If I weren't me
Who would be left
To carry all my years
Of missing out on being someone else?

the chips were leperous with flavours

There is a string
Thick with thread
That jostles me to and fro

A thief that steals the distance
I would add
To keep me far enough away from you

I never got my head around
Before it got the thread around me

I guess a string
Is a simple thing
Compared with being stuck
With what I said.

I didn't
Or rather I did
But
I wish I hadn't

Folded into my washing
Pile on the bed
Sunken beneath an ocean
Slinking out my head

Back to Who I Am.

It's easier to go on unchanged
Than to face the uncertainty of pupation
Or the agony of the chrysalis
Or the entropy of forward motion
It's easier to ossify
To live life in shoes
That never bid the earth good bye
I think that's why.