Writing

Birds fly through the sky.

Black against gray clouds

Though they’re bright

Red,

Yellow,

Blue

Up close if you stop and look.

Robins pecking for worms after the rain,

I chase this dream

With everything I have.

I want to be with it

Every step of the way.

From the moment I first touched it

To where my fingertips grazed actual possibility

To where my heart broke

I want to live

Inside your head.

I want to be where

They can't hurt me.

I want to live where you are

I want to stay in the sunlight

I want to dance among the stars.

I want to live in your fantasy

There's a point you can't look for that means you wait; homework tucked away, lips chapped yet somehow unbleeding, socks on in bed the way you never have before.

We cheer and shake our cowbells, waving at passing cars. 

Sometimes they roll down their windows, clapping and cheering back.

Sometimes they roll their eyes and look away, avoiding eye contact.

I'm not drowning in water, but words.

A feeling comparable to what I imagine standing under a waterfall feels like.

The longer you stand there, the more painful and heavy it gets.