The Wall & The Wind

I dream in wings,
but wake in chains

What I want is a bird mid-flight,
but expectations stitch
my soles to the soil.

The wall in front of me grows
stone by stone,
mortared with can’ts and won’ts,
stacked high by heavy hands
moved by other people’s fears.

They say: “Be careful”,
as if caution is a currency
To trade for joy.

They say: “Be good”,
as if conformity is a cage
I should lock myself inside.

They say: “Be what we need you to be”,
but what I need is to be nothing
but the thing I was born to give -
all of me, as I am, as I could be.

So I run.

Fists full of breath,
legs full of fire,
straight at the wall,
hoping,
just hoping,
that fear will crumble,
that I will not break, but break open.

The wind called my name,
the wall still knows my weight.

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