i watch the world from behind bars.
i do not fit fit into this body;
it's much too tight,
too rigid,
too confining.
i do not fit into this conversation;
it's terribly dull,
terribly loud,
terribly intrusive.
i do not fit among these people;
they're much too shallow,
too strict,
too breakable.
i watch the world from behind bars,
trapped,
too small to shout my name.

i wanna go walk in the rain
and kiss new people
and stomp in puddles
and see the mountains when the sun hits them for the first time in the morning
and i wanna eat new food
and wake up with sun
and sleep with the moon
and walk among miles of beaches
and run barefoot in the sand
and climb the tallest trees i can find
and sail uncharted waters
and swim in the ocean while it rains
and jump out of planes
and explore antartica
and climb mountains
and go skinny dipping
and run barefoot through the jungle
and climb to the top of a building
and live.
really live.

i am being pulled by the stars again.

i'd like to think that
in small corners of my mind
i built
gardens;
sprawling, enchanting forests.
in the dusty attics
i wove
tapestries
and libraries.

if you listen closely,
you can hear the wind and the trees.
the wind murmurs
secrets and words in hidden languages.
the trees whisper the fates of gods and mortal men.

a heart not yet
broken;
a canvas unfinished.

isn't it terribly beautiful,
the way the ocean loves the moon?
he whispers and she responds
in an eternal dance.