I am almost in pain:
Aching to learn,
Learning to wait,
Waiting to fly.
Here is my revolution:
Fragile, begging for mercy.
Pitiful gestures aside,
I recover from boredom,
Cursing under my breath
For my own shortcomings.
I look for familiar patterns
And lapses in judgment.
Momentary, they call them,
I call them "life".
Words spring away,
Hide from me.
I bleed them
Onto a page,
Stained already with ink.
Altering reality isn’t easy
I am sorry.
I am sort of
Scared...