flying is possible now
but no matter how high you go,
somehow there still isn't enough air.
a collar hugs your throat;
no leash attached
eighteen; adult.
unchained from the title minor,
the weight of everything figurative yet real
still holding every bone down.
liberty? subjective to your owner(s)
YOU ARE READING
Effusive Verbosity
PoetryI have trouble with being succinct, or rather lack being succinct at all. Poetry doesn't come naturally to me, not usually anyway. In fact, I'd rather indulge myself in writing a novel, but there are thoughts in my head and feelings in my heart that...
