Saturday, December 12, 2009

Flying

(This is probably not that good, since I don't tend to be that good at poems, but yeah.)

The first time she
flew she didn’t know it. She thought she was
asleep and she wasn’t but she thought she was and
sometimes
that’s all you need. So, she
flew
flew out the window without
bothering to open it. The world was foggy
dark but she could still make out the tiny
yellow flower dots on the ground and she
fell she
landed in the daytime.
There was a boy and he started walking to her through the dew and sun
but then everything
stopped and she was alone and
couldn’t tell that she wasn’t lost.

The second time she flew she didn’t fly and
wasn’t asleep.
She was in the kitchen, putting apples and cheddar together when the
wooden door knocked and it was the
boy and he stood there, and she didn’t
wake up. His mouth opened but there wasn’t anything to say.
She held her apple and
watched as he watched her, and as he
walked away.

The third time she flew, it was a
wish. She sat at the white table in the
white room, filling out taxes or paying bills or
applying to a job so that she could do those things, and she
thought, no, I want a
castle and
the fountain of youth and to
fly. So she shut her eyes and in her mind
she did. Behind her eyes she saw
herself, dancing like a ripple above the blue
grey ocean, salt spray rushing through her, not
touching her, and she wanted to go there. She got
up and pushed the white chair under the
white table and stepped outside. She
stretched her arms out in the sun and she
felt the gold all around her and she thought she
saw the boy but then
he was nowhere, and she wondered if people could
think themselves invisible.

When she went to bed that night, she said,
tomorrow I’ll fly, and find the boy or a
castle, and I’ll stay there
forever. It will be
Beautiful. But when she woke into her dream,
she didn’t know. She didn’t know
why there was smoke everywhere or
why unrecognizable expressions didn’t
recognize, or maybe even see
her sitting in the middle of the crowded grey road and holding
clutching to herself and then there was the
boy and he said, do you want to be a
cloud? And she said,
yes.

3 comments:

  1. OMG that was beautiful. I love you sooooooooooooo much! <33333 and I'm toes buying every book you write :D

    ReplyDelete