High on the hills my lungs are full
air clear as spring water
not a single sound
but the hum of inner thoughts

It is time for the journey
to completely cast off
the weight of my acquaintances
to unearth the strayed self

To be a running girl on an island
the wind beneath her hair
an assurance of change
and wings strong enough for flight





Fish in aquariums make me dizzy
they swim in circles as though
there is somewhere to go

I pity their hopeless journey
someone should tell them
it’s all a trick

But most of all
they’re reminiscent of me

How many circles have I spun
how many times have I thought
I was going somewhere