Birds Fly

I think therefor I am.
It’s funny how the very thing that assures me of my humanity is trying to rob me of it.
Steal my very existence away in badly thought thoughts in moments that will someday be memories
Where the only truths that seem real are that the whole world is sinking.
It’s funny because my thoughts are supposed to assure me of my reality
But lately they only seem to be distorting it
Or maybe they’re just showing me the reality of my situation
Maybe my old thoughts kept hidden these truths
They seemed like straight line thoughts not the circles and loops and dancing thoughts
That seem to think my head is a stage.
I don’t know
Because in the moments when all I can hear are thoughts parading through my skull it makes the world look altered
I don’t feel like I am
Meant to be
I am falling
Even when my feet are planted firmly on the ground
Like a tree who seems so solid it could hold a whole house and ask for more
My thoughts whisper to me I’m meant to be a bird
A bird is meant to fly
A bird must learn to fly
A bird must jump away from the safety of a mother’s nest
It’s easier when your nest was never safety
And I feel I am a bird who is holding the wait of her whole world on her wings.
Maybe I am a bird
I think therefore I am does not end in human
If I am a bird it would explain many things
Like why I yearn to jump out of my tree and see if I can fly.
I stand looking down wondering what will happen to me
I know what will happen, for the dancing thoughts still leave a little room for the straight-laced ones
but a part of me still knows I can fly
If I will only leap and never look down.
And the straight-lined thoughts hold me back they are still familiar
But they seem to be shrinking and shrinking
And each time I know them a little less.
Sometimes I’m scared they will disappear.
And sometimes I hope they never come back.
Maybe then I will finally earn my wings.
Sometimes though, my thoughts get a little straighter and I remember I’m not a bird meant to fly I sink
I sink far to the ground and I wonder why I would have lied to me.
Then I wonder what it would be like to think thoughts that told me to stay alive
Because my thoughts keep telling me to disappear.
But still I must wonder if I’m a bird and all I need to do
Is fly.

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