Fly

The sky never gets any closer although I do my best to fly
and I turn to glare at whoever is standing on my cape
 muttering a laundry press of wrung out words to convince
convict
 that my feet belong firm
and those bars are really security….
but safe never conquered a mountain
and my soul is already soaring and in its warbling song is an invitation
that I want to accept
that I will attend in full costume
and if the fall kills me
at least I will have had this one glorious flight
@jayetomas2014
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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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