i just want to be a fairy

That's how my journal entry begins.  Years and years ago, in a time when I understood the gentle concept of love, the warmth of only my angst, and the careful sling of my family.  I just want to be a fairy dancing in a ballet again.  I am believing that if I imagine myself so, whether I am dead or alive--That is what I'll be.  A Willi in the the treetops.  A princess in rags or jewels waiting for the touch a a fairy, the touch of me. 

I am springing and

twirling and

flying arms

pumping

in my

dreams

keeping me a float

for a joke, mega seconds it seems

the breath

mistakes me, leaves me up, emote, unseen, unheard, underneath

lift me up to the treetops and I stream my gaze upon the green and lush with a patch of barren

that I can't seem to do with much

The Dream

the toast

the warmth

the fog

the uncertainty

and

make believe

of that place

I call HOME

that I search to find,

always in me.

Over and Under, over in the breeze, clinging from the rooftops, the treetops, the clifftop,

child in hand,

mystery in mark,

destiny lifted

an opened

and received

and given

and sent back

with three.  To the place the place of my tree,

open stride,

open pride,

open door to me and over andagain andunder me.

Ever again in my mind

scratching my body for some relief--go to the place where the gravestone lay.  So I walk, I ride and stumble by and then press on the path so effortlessly high.  Up to the hilltop of my fairytale in tow be me

beneath the quake of the roaring sea. 

And transfixed on the eye in the cavern,

in the sky.

I glance upon my eye

a ship of great weight

and of such great size. 

Amidst the wide ocean

my heart lay on the dream

and lost in the loves of the deeep dark sea--ME.

Back to the barre where I breath for the time

waiting

for love

to come

back if I am around.

Whited out,

backed,

upon the plank

of my deep darkened fear. 

Crippled,

injected,

set rest

to mend

tender. Her discontent for the dance is the meddler with spice and grief and good times of three.

mend Mend  mend

and alter this tree, this, this land land, this crop, this drop!

One Drop and Screw

this is a job

the will will outdo

the rest of you. 

Out on the scene with 5 stories to represent. 

I masked under pressure

and fell without rescue

from the heavens. 

Dancing without

a strength.