A roller coaster,
I think,
shouldn't be this topsy turvy
and always on the brink
~
of cascading backwards,
a fallen angel on fire,
made of angelic clockwork,
crooked screws and rusty wire.
~
To be one minute
in the sky,
indigo dreams and firefly torches,
finally learning to fly
~
and the next underwater,
cold and alone,
and that sinking aching feeling,
washing over your bones.
~
And the worst is knowing when it's coming,
seeing the descent before your eyes.
Desperate for the sun and sky,
desperate to stand and rise.
~
And knowing, still knowing,
you're stuck here on this ride,
your blueness sits beside you,
and never leaves your side.