*I wrote this poem in 2017 and added it to this blog in 2019. It is the first to a series of poems that I just got new inspiration for, so I am editing and re-releasing this series. Enjoy.*

The ground was too difficult for her to stand upon.
It was easier to float, effortless,
yet she strained to reach something outside the atmosphere,
like a red balloon slipping from the wrist of a young child.

What she reached for,
she could not say. But the drumming,
the drumming fueled her,
kept her blood pumping,
until this day —
the day she would find the sound.

A boy calls out to her,
but she doesn’t hear him, continuing 
to float away.

He mourns for her,
without her knowledge;
she felt so isolated,
consumed by means outside their reality.

But the boy, 
the one who remembers,
now carries her burden —
the pain she left to destroy,
displaced to him.

Poor boy, always looking at the sky
wishing to catch a glimpse of red beyond the clouds.