When I was ten,
I use to dream of
running away. I’d
lie in my bed
at night with
the blinds pulled
open and the
curtains divided
so that I could
stare at the sky.

With every rise
and fall of my
chest, I could
nearly feel the
cold, soft grass
under my feet. I’d
imagine breathing
in a warm, summer
breeze and exhaling
my worries away.

But then I’d make
the mistake of
blinking. The
realization that
I’d never be
enough would
reenter my
thoughts until my
blinking turned
to sleeping.


One thought on “Ten

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s