Escape

Hastily written in the heat of the moment. Hope you enjoy.

The hands clasp around her body as she falls or perhaps she just simply floats. Is she drowning, being pulled into an abyss by these outreaching hands or are they lifting her pushing her towards an uncertain freedom? The lines are blurred, meaning shifted, sometimes it feels as though she is drowning while in reality she fly's. Are the hands that hold her strangers, friends, lovers or are they her own? It's in this imagined desperate battle between drowning and flying that she finds her balance. If she never truly soars she'll never have to learn how it feels to fall from such a great height. In her inaction however, she signs away any opportunities and slowly drowns within herself anyway. She is a bird who built her own cage and in such she is the only one who can break it.

Author's Note

What do you think? Ignore my atrocious grammar, I tend to write on the fly with little to no review, I apologize for the mess.

Reviews

[Nobody Known]

Real and relatable. I respect that.

[KatTastrophe]

Thank you very much!