Trash bags climbing

Curbsides like vapid spiders

To me now

Everything is a ghost

Helpless to the current of the wind

I watch the bag collapse like an exhausted lung

And fill with the next breeze

There has never been a day where I don’t

stand like a windmill with my mouth open

Praying that I will finally get to catch my breath

I’ve stopped eating so that I might stretch myself so thin

The wind will take me like a kite

And

If I land in a tree

Please

leave me there

The leaves smell so sweet

They rustle in my ears the song

Of tiny feet scattering

In all the right directions

Can feel them tickle down my spine

Like an epiphany shiver

I got this itch to move

And I’m begin’ god for Dorothy’s tornado

To come and take me away

‘cause these legs walk me into all the wrong places

I want to be helpless to something more powerful than myself

Say

“I’m sorry I ****** things up

But this tornado

it planted me here in your lap”

Show you how it’s not my fault I’m not perfect

Nobody is

Doesn’t feel right though

The fire that made my heart

And the ocean that salted my tears

The wind that’s beggin’ to whisk me away from here

Is telling me otherwise

I think

Helium

Think

Feather

Think

Kite

Think

empty trash bag on the curb collapsing like a dying jellyfish