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Flying

Free to Fly, Free to Be

By Amber MartinPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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My feet pound loudly against the rough surface of the forest.

Jagged, fallen branches lay on the ground beneath my feet. Sending their knives like twigs into my flesh.

Blood soaks into the soils of my bare feet.

My heart pounds loudly in my chest.

So loud, that I am having difficulty comprehending my thoughts.

But that's ok. I'd rather not hear them right now.

All I want is to feel...free.

Free from thought, free from trouble. Free from the trouble, that comes from thinking too much.

I want to embrace the rush I'm feeling now.

I can taste the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Sending shivers of pleasure up my spine. Fueling me to push past my bodies limits.

'Don't stop', it whispers.

Slithering around in my head, with its repetitive chant.

And I listen to it's demand because right now, this feeling is what's keeping me sane.

Its like I'm flying high in the sky.

Not a single care in the world.

It's just me and the forest; and I'm at its mercy.

And boy, does it taste heavenly.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Amber Martin

Written word: where the impossible suddenly becomes possible.

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