It's on the tip of my tongue,
a chilling breeze whipping my face
that lets me feel every ounce of blood in my veins.
It's the feeling that I could jump and fall through
the air when really I'd just hit the ground
that my feet never found the courage to leave.
It's the place hidden beneath the darkest part of
my very soul that, when touched, makes me
feel alive, no bleeding necessary,
just breathing in, breathing out.
It's standing on a broken sidewalk in the
middle of a grey city, people rushing  by,
and my body is stationary, my legs
molded to cement like weeds pushing
through the cracks because when you
think about it we are not just breathing in
the air, we are breathing in the sky,
constellations filling my lungs, I throw
my head back and laugh them out
again with joy.  I'll take your hand and
you'll take mine.  Together we'll walk
toward the sun until we make it to the
end of the earth and grow ignorant
to the passing of time.