My shoulders relax,
my muscles lighten
as I let go of a load
and say goodbye to the guilt
that had been crumbling inside;
I breath out
and feel the relief
burn down my throat.

In a year I’ll be so light I’ll reach the stars.

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?

The lonely moth sits perched on the shower wall
Raindrops fog up the mirror quite unconcerned
Shampoo drips and stings my watchful eyes

The lonely moth moves between my lashes onto the faucet
Scruffy loofahs exfoliating my ***** limbs fall to the side
Water pools outside the hair-clogged drain

The lonely moth flutters– gone in a trick of the mind
Hair cream coats dripping, bouncy locks of curls
A fresh towel becomes soaked and softened

Are you a spider, traipsing around your web? Like an acrobat,
you swing from fly to fly, trapping them further. Your gossamer silk
Surrounds them, confines them, suffocates them, but you, black widow,
Deliver the killing blow. Your bite is not accompanied by a bark
as you sink your fangs into your victims like a thirsty vampire.
Drain them, empty them, free them of life, dear spider.
For it is your nature, your purpose, and your divine duty to devour.
Oh, spider, I am your devotee, your destitute follower, your dying breath.
I am your last hope of redemption in this dying, this killing, this ending.
Will you be redeemed in the end? Only I, the fly, decide.

I'm in a constant reverie,
Morosely contemplating the glistening, vivid, sky
that contrasts with the remnants of earth and vibrant, coloured, flowers.

I turn my gaze to the sea,
not far-off, that seems to splash and crash
in sync with the swaying leaves.

I imagine if the body of water was a physical being,
it would be more powerful than I.
Every muscle, every cell, feels weak within me.
Although, if I had to pick between the sea and the sky,
I would have to choose the sky.

I'd Feel the wind forcibly blowing my face as I
fly with no responsibilities ahead of me.
I could finally be free from every thought,
every 'checkpoint' individuals expect me to achieve.

Since it's not possible, I decide to at least feel the thrill
instead, by jumping off this obscure building,
where mother nature is fighting to take over.

But as my feet leave the ground,
I realize—no fall will truly free me
Maybe freedom is found in the sky within,
where thought and wind can finally cease.

Pretty birds in a cage
Little birds in a rage
Red, yellow, green and blue
All bonded like a glue
They try, cry and weep
They fly and forget the creep
Young friends of Earth
Flightless friends from birth
Wish they were never born
Until they eat sweet corn

There is not one
Which I have not rewarded,
One I have not punished.
From Cyrus To Moses
And each of their children,
That is their nations.
From Rome to Germany
And their siblings,
That is their family.
You stand with your tribe
And you stand against the species.