Tones, tunes, and tongues whisper and whimper at the edges of my ears. I roam so free within but oh so chained without.
I keep this head up, centered exactly where it should be at all times, I do not let it fall. There is not much space for mistakes, and I do not feel comfortable with that. What is life if not a load of fortunate and miserable mistakes?
I rarely look up into the sky here, and when I do I admire it for a few seconds then look away. It makes me feel ashamed, as though I should be looking at it from a different place.
I have time but not a lot of it. I have days that are so identical, they feel like a single day fragmented into equal pieces and distributed over envious months to avoid jealousy.
I have high hopes, so high and so bright that they scare my skin into a sweat, and my mind into a dream.
I enter those thoughts wary of being caught, careful not to wake anyone up. I walk into that hope and the gratitude is overwhelming and humbling. I find that my words make sense and my eyes see clearer. My world looks fantastic beside that hope. I carry that with me as I walk back out escorted by responsibility and reality. They put me into my bed and tuck me in as I set the alarm for the next morning. I take a glimpse of my bright future and I close my eyes to end my day and prepare for the next.
Things aren’t so bad, they are so great either. I have a firm back bone and some sturdy feet and they keep me moving. I am not afraid, I am hopeful. I am facing and not escaping; I just am constantly in pursuit of that silver lining.
I will try to look at the sky tonight and relax my neck for a change. Maybe all I have to do is dare to look up and find myself again.