Asleep

I once knew an artist, a fanciful girl She dreamt of nothing but seeing the world Insisted she’d never commit to one place And turned away people who’d try to learn her face I remember her room, the first time I’d been She kept everything in boxes, how I thought it strange then I asked her why; she smiled to her eyes, and it happened each time I would see her again, always the same tune, “I’ll be leaving soon!” But time went on, the world spun, and haunted by that ticking clock, she found that she was truly stuck, for all she loved and all she dreamed was far too high for her frail wings, and one bleak morning, it was clear, that everything she held so dear was just a cloud up in the sky, and she cried to find it was a lie, that you cannot sail without a ship and life is not a switch you flip to come alive and flee the hive, no, it takes much more to thrive. And after she grieved for the life she must lead, she tried to establish her roots in these weeds, so she called on the people she’d once sent away, to find only strangers who’d forgotten her name, for they’d all been living while she was asleep, and while she’d been dreaming, they’d taken the leap.