Of Closets and Consequences

I have nothing to say. Which is unusual, because if you give me a sharpie I start to write and I can't stop. Give me a sharpie and I will write poems on your walls and scribble lyrics on all the cardboard boxes. I write the things I don't mean on ripped paper using thick strokes that I crumple and give to the wind. The day I was given a sharpie my life changed. My closet walls are covered with words, words, words. In which I have nothing to say so I am going to go sit in my closet for inspiration. 

Inspiration's a bitch.
But here we go.

I want to jump off of a building
Without the consequence
I want to feel the wind billowing through my hair
Without meeting the end
I want to feel what flying really feels like
Without the chance of dying
To free fall
Let go and dive
Dive off the top of the highest
Just to feel that high
Meet the boundless air
Shake hands with the never ending sky
Smile until it leaves a trail of itself in the wind
Fell just a remnant of what a bird feels
The bird that leaps
And sees how long she an possibly go before
Spreading her wings
Because sometimes you have to fall
Fall big
Before you can defy gravity
And really fly
But when your me
Flying has more than just
A consequence.

-Poem from July 2012 found on the west side of my closet by the cardigans. Surrounded by weird drawings of birds.