The Kite Secretly Wishes to Land

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Aristotle's Hope

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One too many
Bugs crawl amok
Slowly sinking
Those who long to fly away from murky pits of lifeless muck

Hands tied, mouth taped
By my own senses
Like those many straying
And drifting idly among tight fences

Like a sapling in a storm
About to lose its form

Would you anchor down, or let it go?
Can you tell?

Bye bye, old me
Said I long ago
To a shadow that scared
And trailed and twisted, cast light as a foe

Like a thread bound in a knot
Ever tighter and distraught

Will you pull me apart or cut me up?
Will you tell me

Kites in wild wind
Sail the vast sky
Craving their safety?

Supposedly grown-up yet
So frail am I
Wrong to wish to flee

Can anyone, hold my hand, help me land

Tossed around in every which way
Vertigo, swing 'round, lock me in this fray
Holes in my head let the virus in
Seeping out, I dissolve to less than thin

Kites in wild wind
Sail the vast sky
Craving their...

Supposedly grown-up yet
So frail am I
Wrong to wish to flee?

Floating all alone
No rope in sight
Am I still in one piece?

Don't know where I'll go
But I'll fly till the day
Your fears release

Will you meet me there, when I'm done, when I'm home

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