for the girl who wants to fly

i love all the things

that easily catch air

thinking i could be like these things,

i sit and tie balloons to my chair

i’m sure i would’ve flown away

if i knew what to wear

i try to rise, shifting my weight,

hoping the wind has a current to share

yet i’m caught on past hurt,

the balloons tangled in my hair

no wings yet,

although i sent god a prayer

i’m falling,

all thanks to, well, many a snare

regardless, there is something telling me

the traps will always be there

and for the girl who wants to fly,

i still hope you dare