I ran and ran
from the unknown and
I found a broken bridge -
an exit
from this land
full of fears.
I looked down
it was deep
I couldn't see
its end
my legs grew stiff.
Shaking,
I sniffed
the courage left
in the thin air
and exhaled
a short loud shout
releasing from my mouth
a huge amount
of thick, black smoke
of which I assumed
was the remaining fear
which my guts
have been aching
to let go.
and then I bent a little -
focused every energy
left in my body,
every drop of hope
left in my heart,
every courage
left in my lungs -
to my legs
to my ankles
to my feet.
Hoping to reach the other side,
I closed my eyes
and *jumped.
where do our dreams go after we wake up? do they just vanish and be forgotten? i wonder.