I'd like to think I'd escape for better days. Even though the needles pricking into my skin may urge me to stay put, we are not meant for boxes and contraptions that will keep us inside. The needles aren't real, they are like bugs crawling on my skin—those feelings will fade with clarity, but some days I am unwilling to step outside of my tolerated self; my bones crumble at the idea of a future uncertain. I'm used to the boxes that keep me in place even though I know I can walk right through them and I'd be fine.
About the Creator
Andi Leigh
Poet • Novelist • Short Story Writer • Photographer • Cartoonist
Hello! I'm Andi. I enjoy writing poetry, horror stories, and general fiction.
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Blueberry Sky
Today I studied the blueberry sky and admired the clouds of cream. My eyes chased the whipped shapes and found it to be such a dream. My heart followed the wind's direction, the devil-may-care breeze. I reached up from the grass that tugged me down, I'll never be tall like the trees—with their branches closer to touching the ocean that is the persisting sky, I'll stay cemented for my life, watching from the hillside. But even so, I'm meant to remain with my feet sown into the ground; it's still a nice thought to think that the vastness will take me around.
By Andi Leigh24 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Great poem! 🪭