“They say a good love is one that sits you down, gives you a drink of water, and pats you on top of the head. But I say a good love is one that casts you into the wind, sets you ablaze, makes you burn through the skies and ignite the night like a phoenix; the kind that cuts you loose like a wildfire and you can’t stop running simply because you keep on burning everything that you touch! I say that’s a good love; one that burns and flies, and you run with it!”
― C. JoyBell C.
“You always feel it, Sherlock, but you don’t have to fear it. Pain. Heartbreak. Loss. Death. It’s all good.”
I hear the pounding of my heart over the pulse of the music
I see the high clouds, drifting, dancing, and blushing like maidens under the touch of the sunrise.
I smell the dry air, carrying promises of the heated day to come.
I feel the tread, littered and tapered with rocks, my feet pounding them to dust a thousand times.
I accept the challenge, burning down the aching, racing, thoughts that drive me back.
I sense the freedom that only flying like this, my own power, can bring.
I’m hungry for more.