Your body is so isolated. Stationary at the back of my mind. The elegant wings lie on the floor, dragging with every step that you take. I desperately keep my mind off you, not wanting to provoke any further attention. Not wanting to look so deep into your eyes. I want to be a part of you, but yet I need to be myself first. You’ve seen everything the world has had to offer you. I’ve seen none. I take no risks and go slowly down my own pace. My path is a straight line, while yours is jagged and all over the place. I want a life like yours, but I make no attempts because of the fear of the unknown and the reality that has to come my way. I feel your presence even when I try to block you out of my mind. Your body in so many shades of bright and dark oranges. Black shadows covering your face. I’m currently thinking of you, and as I’m doing so, I grip a mug in my hands, but soon after it shatters. Hitting the cold, tile floor beneath me. The pieces spread everywhere. My hands still grip the handle as I stand in the midst of my living room in shock, unable to comprehend what really just happened. The lights pour out thinly through the blinds, which appear in stripes along the rough edges of the shattered pieces of the mug that lies on the floor. I pick up the pieces tremulously, for I don’t want to grip it too hard, knowing that I’ll bleed. Every time I pick up the pieces of the mug and my life, your appearance is still always in the wake of my mind. The wings you seem to flap so elegantly appears in a flash. I’m only living the life of a human, but always long to have the beautiful, ambitious life of a bird. The life that you get to live so freely, leaves my mind and my soul so breathless longing for those long-awaited opportunities, but yet I make no attempt to go further and live in my monotonous reality.

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