If I Jump, Would I Find Wings

I have not been writing much. I've been talking to myself more. Trying to understand what is this weight that makes my heart so heavy. I feel like an outsider, a third party watching life happen around me. It feels like I'm on a rickety bridge of uncertainty, afraid to risk that run to either side of the bridge. I just stare at the churning water below, wondering what I should do next, trying to convince myself if I can be brave enough to jump, I might find myself having wings. 


I'm anchored, by what, I don't know. A mime trapped by her own box. 


I think I need a push.







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