Haphazardly kissing the sky that’s made its way down to my side of the road

Desperately clutching the heels of the shadows cast by the stories I’ve been told

Shamelessly throwing stones at the glass house that contains my safety net

Violently crashing through every wall that’s denied how much further I’d get

Strategically weeding out the fearful thoughts I convinced myself was merely logic

Ecstatically barreling down the slope of ‘could be’ instead of trying to dodge it

Frankly expressing the confusion and assurance others are afraid to confess

Undeniably refusing to run from possible failure forsaking what could turn out to be best