Sometimes I stand connected,
Full to the brim with war and crazy.
Just ready to be.
Other times I feel detached.
I am no longer full.
I am empty as empty can be,
And as frozen as cold can get.
I am trapped.

Sometimes I am happy and content
In my suffering.
Other times I am at a precipice,
Falling, falling,
But it feels like I am
Flying, flying.
I am free.

But then the jagged rocks
Get closer and closer,
And the waves
Get louder and louder
Until they are upon me.
I was free.

I gave myself away
To the freedom of flying
And falling,
I was free,
But now
I am trapped…
In just another kind of death.