Like the Kite of Spring

To be departed from
is like having forsaken air
standing at the window of your lungs,
and being motionless to stop
their compression.

But what if breaths
never held masses of burdens
and caresses of skin could feel
natural in the air?

Then would I be a phantom-
feeling the unreal sensation
of living, but not physically
resting.

To fly, shall I say with wings,
can never be impossible
for I've heard from the light
that it is like being born-
never undermining the shadows
from whence we were held;
I will not let the intoxicants
I breathe smother me
in children's affection.

There has to be more
than imagination...
More than reflective pieces
that paint fragments
of a dream.

My colors are not of this mind
for it takes a soul
to learn the arches of spring,
and I will not drop down
until the sun denies its existence
~

Written May 8th in my speech class. Thanks for reading :)