I can’t feel the grains of the pavement,
Making indents in the soles of my feet.
Because my toes are lifting—
Floating off the ground!
I’m finally letting go!
I say a cheery “goodbye!” to whats in front of me,
For the mirage in the clouds above instead.
I loosen my grip on the things around me,
With their cracked surfaces
And peeling paint,
And I reach my finger tips to the clouds,
As they shine multi-colored light on me through their pretty, stain-glass windows.
I haughtily look down at those below me,
As I float away like a red balloon towards the clouds,
whose strained string was finally snapped.
I feel my giddy smile on my face,
“So long!” I yell towards the people and the houses below me in my mediocre town,
As they turn to little black dots.
I’m off to things gilded in fools gold.
I’m off to the my dreams,
Painted in perfect light,
I’m off to a home with no ghosts in the walls.
I’m off to “If I had____, then I’d be happy.”
I’m going to grab and devour the sun beams of my wildest expectations,
I’m off to consume them in my mouth,
To feel their goodness slide down to my stomach like a cool glass of water.
I finally made it to the clouds,
In my child-sized ballerina gown,
And my dreams were all right in front of my face– they were real!
I walked the roads of my immaculate desires,
But the streets were all empty,
My footsteps echoed off the bright, primary colored walls.
I dashed in and out of the empty homes looking for my gold,
My deepest joys,
But they were no where to be found,
They must have seeped into the fake plywood walls and whitewashed mannequins.
Then I heard a loud “Pop!”
And the air started spitting out of me.
I slowly deflated as I drifted from the clouds,
Down to the cracked and broken people of my little home town.
From my view, as I fell, I could see them sitting at their yellow lit dinner tables,
breathing, and eating, and crying and living.
They had scars on their back,
And dirt on their feet,
They had flies in their homes,
And mediocrity in their eyes,
But I longed for the cracked broken people,
Over the empty, fake, lonely, city of my wildest dreams.