Sometimes I feel as if I'm drifting on the wind,
like I've never stepped foot on solid ground.
I don't know exactly where I'm going,
it's up to the weather
and I simply must float along.
I crave stability,
a safe place to rest,
but as soon as my toes graze the grass,
I'm back on the breeze again.
I'm a broken umbrella,
struggling against the storms
I'm never quite prepared for.
If only I could be a wish on a dandelion puff,
so the seeds of my hope could
take root
and no longer let me
drift away.
About the Creator
Josey Pickering
Autistic, non-binary, queer horror nerd with a lot to say.
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Compelling and original writing
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