Because I like to sprint when I can’t breath.

“The world is hard to hold onto,” she said. My hands start losing their grip. And I wonder what it would be like if I just let go. Let the sky hold me for once instead of the other way around. And I start to wonder if I’d be good at flying or if my wings would be too heavy. If they’d be dirty and covered with flies or muddy and covered with soot from all the fires I’ve lit and put out. I wonder why God made crows and why did God make bad and mistakes and goodbye? Why was the snake and the tree in the garden? Why did he brew the perfect disaster? Why couldn’t he have let his flawed masterpiece be?

~ by carik on July 20, 2008.