schedules and cars that ride faster than the wind
barely even time to cook a good dinner
maybe this is just time to rest
and recuperate after years of a different kind of running
a kind of flying
running, flying, leaping, soaring with the wind
instead of in the opposite direction
at full speed
a different kind of wind, a new sort of slow
a slow found in in-between moments of whooshing breath
gasping for air
air that had been forgotten
in the rushing madness
what now do i choose for myself
i've dipped toes, then jumped full-on into both worlds
feels like i'm spiralling back and forth
and when i make comparisons
i see it's not such a big decision after all
the spiral keeps turning, regardless
but then, it's also a huge decision
shall i turn towards the sun, slowly, like a dandelion
or shall i turn downwards yet up
being stretched tightly into a middle place of balance
my guts stretched out tight to be poked with sticks
and push pulled into leather
a tight unforgiving leather
that does not give in to the sly kisses of the wind
for it can no longer feel
it is stretched too tight
i feel like a tired wind caught between the currents of the tides
in a confusing whirlpool of motion
a black hole of dark unknown
heavy rock tied to my ankles
pulling so hard that they bleed they bleed they bleed
i am bleeding to death
for my heart has been ripped to pieces
devoured by so many little cords of blind hunger
that stretch leather of what was once a heart
until there is no more blood to bleed
it is caked and hard
and eventually
back to dust
i wonder if sometimes late at night
the dust sits up and wonders
where did i come from
