I can say I've touched the sun.
The radiation was nothing compared to my salvation.
The sensations welcomed me home.
A place beyond time, beyond one's mind.
I lived what past versions of me never dared
and lost it all in a instant.
So to now stand in the silence of what once burned bright.
I become a fleeting spark, what was once our light.
I chase the whispers of the sun.
Hoping to undo what's already done.
Yearning for the sky to cradle my heart once more
but I am grounded to dirt and grass.
Like a bird, I used to be one with the sky.
I've hit the window too many times.
You clipped my wings.
Why do you still expect me to fly?
Do I keep reaching for what can’t be found,
Or surrender to the weight of the earth beneath the ground?
Am I meant to rise again, to heal, to soar,
Or remain rooted, in the place I implore?