It bushed against my face, the scent of sun
And trees. My limbs outstretched, prepared to fly
No true attention paid; those eyes, this sight,
A girl prepared to rise and leave my form
“What are you doing?” a voice whispers to me
Eyes closed, I recognize the words, the tone.
“I want to fly.” Sighs, familiar, annoyed.
This happens quite often. Desires to go, take
Off into this mind, my mind. This one place
Where I may exist in peace. The wind, so sweet,
Lulls all my thoughts, and draws me deep into
My fantasy. In these, my longing dreams,
Then time will stop its flow and I will be
Set free. The bindings on my arms, neck;
Too tight to fly for real and I fly away.