Yet.
There's a certain amount of freedom that comes with my brand of insanity.
For example, when I'm high off of
Absolutely nothing,
I find joy in absolutely everything.
Well, almost everything;
I haven't completely lost it.
Yet.
I look off of a rooftop,
And wish that I could fly,
And think about what it would feel like,
To defy,
Gravity,
Soaring through the sky,
Like a goddess, looking down at the mortals below me. //
But just as I'm about to step off of that rooftop, //
Something reminds me
That I cannot fly
Reminds me that
I haven't completely lost it.
Yet.
Sometimes, I even swear that I can feel
Wings
Trying to tearing their way
Out of my back,
Granting my wish
To attain flight;
I swear that I can feel
My back tingling,
From my shoulder blades
Straight down
To the centre of my spine;
But as I take my fingers
And rub them against my back
And feel nothing
But smooth, unbroken skin,
I am reminded that that isn't possible.
I haven't completely lost it.
Yet.
Sometimes, I hear these... voices.
Screaming at me,
Saying nothing and everything
All at once.
I can't stand them,
These voices.
Sometimes, I can't hear myself think!
So I tell them, "shh!"
But, of course, they don't listen,
Because they aren't real;
They're only real to me.
I can't control them,
And they can't control themselves,
And even though I hear them,
I can acknowledge that they're just voices; //
Nothing more,
Nothing less.
See?
I haven't completely lost it.
Yet.
* // means the end of a line when the line runs out of space.
By Aliyah Abrahams