I’m stuck here, staring over the edge
I am my freedom, that was my pledge
Why can’t I just
Jump
A lump forms in my throat again
Am I still at the mercy of men?
Or am I just a
Coward
To pitch myself right off the cliff
I’d hoped to finally close that rift
Maybe I am still
Unworthy
To give a pair of wings to my soul
Was that really too lofty a goal?
I guess I’ll never truly
Fly
You and I
were once the two separate sides
of the same electrical cord;
often tangled between each other,
building knots and kneading bundles of bridges
on top cedar, oak and birch floorboards.
There are old journals on my bookshelf
blank pages at the back
filled with unfinished poetry
similes with no synonyms
metaphors with no meaning
Snow forts built of packed wet flour
in a big orange plastic bowl,
S q i u s h
and unfold like an origami fortune
of milky dough and chocolate chips.
