Blinkered and blindfolded
and hooded for good measure
- I run.
And when I run out of road,
that's when I fly.
That's when I stop looking around blind and instead see that my loss of footholds, my lack of reference points and my failure to orientated myself to others frees me from restraint and I acquaint myself with possibilities that I had not allowed myself to paint even with numbers to guide me and instead I had paid too much attention to the mumbles that derided my attempts at something beyond my safe comfort, grounded in the fear of the ****** of others' distaste for what I deep down desired for myself. And so with this loss of the constraint of others' eyes, I fly, blinked and blindfolded and hooded for good measure I no longer bother to check my mirror and instead I revel in this fresh freedom by which I can navigate the skys.