Angel Dust

Dead to the world, cocooned inside your angel wings — life is a dream.

What do you see?

Everything is perception, walls are built up and knocked down. Freedom is not mine or yours to give, it’s been free since inception.

Asleep, I am a heart still beating, lungs still breathing, I stop holding back the flood — and cry holy water into the endless Ocean of you.

A body of water and sanctified breaths, a sanctuary for those other kind of butterflies — that confidently take flight inside when you’re overflowing with steady love.

My eyelids flutter — and I am blessed to break the dawn again with rhythmic breaths entwined with the occasional, deep and soulful sigh.

The day is calling me on, with you at the forefront of my mind — I rise slowly, from inside my room with a view — I observe the world still spinning outside as it paints time with flashes of green and blue.

A version of my world ended once upon a time in dark December, only to begin again with new breaths — the morning after the most savage night.

Now, eyes look at me for the answers that can satisfy every curious twist and turn of the world rushing by. It’s kind of funny how they don’t see — that my eyes still search for you around every corner and path I wander in life. Just wondering ‘am I okay, am I doing this all wrong, how do I hold a steady note — through the longest of songs?’

Though I am convinced, my reckless abandon would make you wince — I keep pushing, to feel something as real as my heartbeats pulsating through the fingertips against my chest.

We spring forward with the Universe still on our side, even though we are its most petulant child — constantly failing to recognise. Do we ever learn?

I keep breathing, just breathing. I am a mother — longing to be mothered just one more time. I never let you go.

Thinking about the angel dust you sprinkled through my hair and eyelashes that night, I know life is a dream that ends — but somehow, beyond this Earth, I feel something like love will survive.