Alone I stand in a crowd of thousands. The feeling of isolation is an overwhelming blanket of fear. This paradox somehow exists, creeping under my tongue so I can't cry out for help. But why ask for help? Here I am protected. Here I am free to be whatever I want. So I fly. I fly alone, feeling righteous. Never thinking I could crash. But I do. I do and it burns. Again amongst the thousands of people. Except now there are millions. Millions of people who do not want me here. But I can't leave. Trapped like a fly in a house with the windows open. Another paradox. An enigma to be solved by myself. Alone.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 2:42am on Nov 24, 2024 via server WEBX1.