TW/CW: This post and poem contain allegories and discussions of suicidal thoughts and death. If you or someone you know is in a crisis, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or text the Crisis Text Line ( text HELLO to 741741)
I see the rolling clouds, forming under the wind’s watchful eye. There is freedom in the movements, more fluid than my mind flows. When I learned that clouds were essentially water vapor therefore, it means I wouldn’t be able to lay upon the clouds. I wondered what there was really worth living for? Sometimes I wished the windows were open so I could kiss the sky and ground with my scalp. But I traced the horizon with my finger, as far as I could see. And I preferred the mystery of what I couldn’t see, the beyond – the clouds between my toes as I run and run and spin and spin – dizzy from it all.Continue reading