minor parrot
It's hard to remember how I got here, never really aware of the steps I've taken, but always sure of where I'm headed. And the more I think about it, the less it seems I'm actually moving
I've been here for what seems like ages, with a long way until I find what I'm looking for. I feel as if I'm training for a sport I've never played, studying for a challenge that is yet to come, waiting for my own birth, to live a life I don't have the privilege to already begin
Still inside my chrysalis, going through a journey I've yet to enjoy, watching the days go by while I'm craving the time when this transformation takes form so I can finally free myself from this wandering prison I've shackled myself to, so I can at last fly far, far away
The problem with living in the future is not knowing how much I'm missing out on the present, afraid that the time ahead might be dull. I'm lost on a one way path, for it doesn't matter how far ahead I look, there will always be something that I missed, as predictions can only go so far and math doesn't seem that accurate when its not on paper
It doesn't matter how tired I am or how much blood I loose, stopping is not an option. When my feet shatter, I'll start crawling. When my hands break, I'll drag my crumbling body as I leave parts of me behind, shaping myself into something new. And I'm worried I wont recognize what I might become.
mortal sand