semi precious.

72 feet.
there were so many nights i spent clutching a warm stomach, praying for a miracle.
beckoning that wayward child to come find me.
you had your reasons, your actions, your words.
i just had too many daydreams that weren't coming true.

at least you could do push ups.

i couldn't break land speed records enough to cut through the wind as fast as i need.
i'd need to lift my feet off of the ground, spread theoretical wings, take flight.
land myself somewhere new, somewhere proper.

somewhere that would have me.

somewhere miracles take place.

where it is, as it was, and was, as it will be.

but you're questioning my reasons for wanting to soar.
telling me it's not safe to leave the ground.
warning me that what i've got...

are daydreams.

not miracles.