Shooting stars spot across vision that never keeps the wishes but walks a tightrope tirelessly trying not to look down but feeling attacked by crazed crocodiles slipping, sliding into purpose, the maws with jagged teeth that cuts at you feeling, fleeting moments where the trajectory is tried, forever changed you lift your feet, leery about what's beneath you so you don't fall into a trap never feeling sane, soundlessly serene because rest isn't for you but the big break is, your efforts are faltering, failing so you keep shifting your legs upward, onward to the sky when in reality, you are so much closer to the break binding yourself to a self-sabotaged fate
I love your creative mind and ability, Kinsey!
Excellent.
Thank you so much!!!