Grounded

insomniatic
catatonic
denying the paralytic

Breathing but lost
alive, but barely.
Living but missing so much

Having stepped, fallen, slipped off the edge on which I was riding so high, aware of the precipice, but unaware of the decent, until below the horizon,

And when circling the drain, dizzy and nauseous
Only in the last moments
Gasping for air
No longer basking in the sun, like a condor on a rock
Oblivious of the sky or wind between my feathers

Getting to eat but never to fly…
Of forever flying in search of food to never be found.
Or writing my own death warrant and authorizing the execution order
Then writing my own obituary.
While my beating heart lies open in my chest.

Rigor-mortis sets in and fluids seep, decay and time undo what fear and self-doubt hid in stone.
It is never too late to die, and never to early, but how long can an empty life and a lonely heart keep beating?

Abandoned and beating away closeness
Too afraid to ask for what you want, to ask for anything, because you know you won’t get it.

Born to fly but not having wings.
Brilliant and mute
a blind photographer
A paralyzed runner slowly tracing the steps of another.
Living but missing so much
alive, but barely
breathing but lost
catatonic
denying the paralytic force, ignoring it completely.
Insomniatic