I wanted to know the feeling of falling so I threw myself into the wind and swallowed the ocean. I flew for seconds, span across the life of time, yet my lifeline, upon impact, forced trauma. Bluntly stated, I rested against your calm through your promise of resolution.
What did you promise to solve when the flames cooled into low blue, and the sharp glass smashed, pitched like birds pleading, engulfed the fires inside my own yearning to be consumed by something free?
Not like stars. Like oceans. Not like ancient trees in a forest — a single leaf, crushed, ripped, shredded, annihilated
Not like flying. I told you, I wanted to fall.
There is a void in fear. A peaceful standstill where I become so wrecked that I no longer want. An expected bliss that rivals even the tune of being alone, it regulates, it integrates, infiltrates, delegates, and soon, screams monotone.
I want to fall downward, spiral. jolt back to life thrash upward, call forward, then slip sideways.
Resting my lifeline, upon impact, allowed me, permitted me to no longer want to soar just to justify gravity.
I’m telling you, I wanted to sink.
Leaving my thirst, the only satisfaction, quenched as I swallowed the ocean.
