I never understood why people thought clouds were made of cotton candy.
I thought I knew better. Thought I knew the truth.
That clouds were just dense water vapour, and they'd never support your weight, no matter how lightly you danced across them.
But on a plane, up up up above the clouds, everything I've ever known reduced to a pale faded blur thousands of miles below me,
I too was sucked into the illusion
That the clouds were a sheet of spun sugar, and I could dance across them forever and never get toothache.
I believed in the fairy tales that I could dive into this dense sticky sweet cotton below me and never get sick.
I could build a castle in the clouds, live with the angels and never grow up.
I wish that were true
It isn't, but who ever said you have to grow up to grow old?
YOU ARE READING
sunflowers and steel chains
Poetry"He's sunflowers and steel chains New scars compensating for old pain The sun's shining but he's facing the other way He's quiet, he don't know what to say" warning: this book contains the unfiltered thoughts of a young man using words as his therap...
