This is an ode.
An ode to the young and beautiful. To the free, to the unattached, to those who will jump, eyes wide open, without room for fear or doubt.
The wind rips in ribbons around me, coiling slowly, a paradox in its acceleration, slowing me down just enough to lift my chin in defiance.
Does that scare you?
I hear it everywhere, echoing and ricocheting—an anthem I can’t shake and a relentless drone of restraint: It’s time to pay the piper.
Pay for the sins and the mistakes and the pain and the glory.
I refuse.
With each dagger your eyes shoot, each impalement drawing blood, I refuse to add more armor.
I shed my layers.
Does my exposed skin scare you?
Showing, revealing, never encapsulated in shadow.
I watch you watch me. I welcome the stolen glances and the fixated gazes.
I do not care.
Does that scare you?
I’m out of time. I didn’t run out—no—I gave it up.
Gave it to those calling for my apologies, for my explanations.
I’m fueled by adrenaline with no time, nor will, to stop and regret. No time to explain and no time to be stable.
I am a water glass filled to the brim, each bead in the surface bound by a trivial amount of tension. Any minute, any breath, any thought might plummet one more drop into the glass.
I overflow.
Spilling uncontrollably, I don’t resist, I embrace.
Aware, unrestrained, uninhibited.
A force to be reckoned with.