i fell and haven't gotten back up. i make my space and sit within its walls. shut in.
on the porch in the jungle of my creation.
and i love it. fight it. want it and push it away.
drive headlong into the traffic wanting the resistance of the metal on my skin to wake me up.
will my wings grow if i jump?
feathers sprout from my shoulder blades and lift me?
cause this crash, this stagnant puddle is murky and i want...
light and growth.
swim to the other side of the ocean and know i will make it.
that i belong in a school of fish.
silver and slippery.
that my jungle is there waiting for me to build it.
my empire real and solid.
prolific and masterful.
mine for the rest of the world.