Burning, burning, burning
this fear that has no right to own me.
Long gone is trust,
and a connection I long for flies overhead
with his wings stretched and hovering.
Lightly drifting in the wind.
No troubles.
And I a flower yearning to blossom, to break free of my roots.
Yearning to have wings.
But burning is this fear.
An emotional challenge turning physical fast, fastening me to the ground.
What will break it free?
Why, nothing,
nothing but
me.