Impulse

January 19, 2018

Breathless.

My fingers intertwined with a desire, not a reality.

Enclosed in a blanket of thoughts and ideas,

Eager to blossom its petals to showcase its individual colors,

But quickly wilts away, overshadowed by fears.

Children no longer play on the swings;

I no longer smile at the explosion of words on my construction paper.

Construction-I am constructed into the myriad-a plethora of status and expectation,

Forced to join a club I never signed up for.

My fingers intertwined with a desire, not a reality

And it slips away, drifting further away from me.

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