I gave up home for freedom.
I chooe to cruise the globe rather than surf channels.
What’s a life hidden?
Who’s alive buried?
Years of torturous travels down highways to climb ladders with buckets of concealed slop teetering at the top, waiting for a misstep to pour down upon my head, burying me beneath shattered dreams and unknown hopes.
Joys that might have been.
The only thing to do is wade through, pick through the slime to salvage a bit of breath that will carry me on its wing to somewhere—away from the nowhere.
I choose rose-colored clouds with just a hint of gray rather than heavy blackness with only a hope of rosy.
I choose to eat the rainbow swirl split beneath lollipops of light rather than submit to a foreshadowing of a small life ended.
