flight

Under the pressure, cracks form, details are rising and exposure is imminent. Faster my mind clears and once again I fell normal. Chase it and be disappointed when it ends. To feel real is important in today’s age. So much is wrong and popular culture deems it adequate, if not normal. A bird flies and it’s wings get tired, does it fly higher knowing it’s wings will glide it to safety or does it land quickly guarantying a safe landing? This is where I sit, under a cloud, knowing the sun shines, but afraid to go to close due to wing failure