We don't give up on our dreams, no. but we've seen enough to see what's happened before, to those who un-tether their life lines and aim for the sky. they float away, gradually deflating into disappointment. they may have purchased a lie. Sold in every corner of their Mama and Papa's belief in them. In america and on the pictures, and in the schools. the lie of our own brilliance, not yours. they do it and float on and not know where they are, but maybe by a sound coming off a speaker or a phrase a teacher spoke. A teacher they now feel ambivalence for. Go and float to what you thought of you, yesterday. They float take some wounds, leaking out an essential air. Picking at well-intended scabs, thin-skin hardens, callous over "these times" so unfair. because faith's not there, healing not here. And I'll tell you why, it's because on this flight there is no fucking way to steer. So whimper out, sink in soft whines, but at too high a distance to touch back down--to reconsider. Some can touch again. Guilt can bring you back. Joy. Sin, resolve of goodness. Some other girl did it when you couldn't decide. Or simply, decimated pride. Nobody knows the how, nobody can re-sing the song that commences inside. Some get gifted the want to play along. To ante up and discover the value of responsibility. The lucky ones have babies. Or hurt too deep. The lucky ones get left with no choice in the matter. Get the anime, elan vital, the verve, with sparks and all. How's it come? All things considered, what makes Johnny run? Lips no longer serviceable. I mean, here we stand got two feet rough ground steady eyes, deep-focused. Limited for sure, but still can take us pretty far. Not knowing how far. Not knowing where to. But once we get there, we know we'll be able to see further. No longer sorting through used copies of the "Myth of the Straight Line." Here we stand, considering the vast burden of others. Here we wander, seeing the stars in the sky, and maybe sometimes feeling so close to them. Underneath this tasteful backdrop--not too dark, but never too hot. Just sufficiently bright. Warmed by the life those stars sent, and warmed by that same thing they gave our friends. We don't give up, no. we walk. we run. and we walk when we get tired again. we don't fly though, never no. because we don't wanna miss out like before. I mean, the dreams might even be close too, yet we don't feel like sleeping anymore. Many are good and we are not them by design.
