You sit there on your hands and wait.

Wait for the world to come collapsing around you.

Wait for the air you breathe to become thick and toxic.

Wait for there to be nothing you can do.

The boy next to you tries so hard.

He tries to hold up the roof so it doesn’t crush what he loves.

He tries to clean the air by breathing in all the bad himself.   

He tries to make you laugh and teach you to smile.

He tries so hard.

The mother who raised you finally broke.

She broke because the world told her to.

She broke because her heart was already dead.

She broke because she forgot how to fix.

She finally broke.

The father you see isn’t the father you need.

He makes you laugh and makes you hurt.

He makes you smile and eat the dirt.

He makes you cry but you’ll never see.

He isn’t what you need.

You want to run but you’re frozen in place.

You want to cry but you’re still keeping face.

Somewhere along you figure out what you need.

And it isn’t any of the things that make you bleed.

It isn’t the boy next to you who tries so hard.

It isn’t the mother who raised you who finally broke.

It isn’t the father that you see who isn’t what you need.

You figure out you have wings.

You figure out that all of nature sings.

You figure out what freedom brings.

You figure out that letting go still stings.

But that sting doesn’t matter anymore.

Letting go of all the things you adore.

Spread your wings and open your eyes.

Take everything in before everything dies.