I asked quietly. In fear the manifestation of thoughts to words would unravel my wishes. That if I had the nerve the utter it, the will of the world would crush it. So I asked quietly, so softly that the breeze scattered my question in all directions. Collapsing my straw house of desire in one singular puff. And I watched as it all falls down in a puddle at my feet, so quickly that it must have all been a dream.
Because I was out of wishes last night.
I have no more pennies and all the shooting stars have already fallen. There's a mess of broken wishbones around me. It's been ages since that well dried up.
No. I must not have asked out loud. Cabin fever drives us mad here. Delirium looks for shelter, finding cover in my long black hair. I can feel it's breath on my ear. Breathing in the delusion of fantasy, breathing out nothing but raw reality.
The Skinny
- Jie Hua
- Detroit, Mi
- I'm in the process. I'd like to expand on that, but it's in the process. I go about my business under the guidance of gut-feelings and universal street signs. I see myself as a very quiet person. Not because I have little to say, only that my abundant thoughts know not where to start. As a child I fantasized about looking through a telescope to give me truth about the world. It amuses me now that what I am doing is looking down a microscope in an effort to reevaluate my holistic position. I am a loner, a drifter, a dreamer.
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