sometimes we feel trapped--
isolated from the world,
like the air inside a bright red balloon
or the unseen ocean inside a conch shell--
like the idea stuck inside my head
before i write it down.

we feel forgotten, like the world
cannot see us anymore--
we are the picture in the frame
behind the one that touches the glass,
the water before it flows from the tap,
the sunrise before it reaches the horizon.

we feel like we're almost there,
but not yet--
we've woken up in the morning,
but we haven't opened our eyes--
we've opened the window,
but the breeze still hasn't come--
we're almost there,
but we're still so far away.