I used to be a breath of fresh air
Free to blow about, to dance with grace
Through places I'd never seen before
With glorious certainty, at my own pace.
Little did I know, that as I grew up
My arms would seize, my legs wouldn't move
That I'd become the still, unmoving wind
With zero purpose, with nothing to prove.
I'm comfortably numb, I feel no pain
I don't need to live, I just exist
If someone walks by, they can feel my soul
Aching to fly, but too weak to resist.

“I’m not the girl I used to be,”
said the observant she.

“I was a once perfect white
and now my skin has bore my fight.”

But what she had realized not
Was what the Painter thought.

For what she saw to be an ending
was what He saw to be the beginning.

You must still exist
In another dimension
I'll see you again

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.