January 7, 2011
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I’m trapped behind these tiny

irregularly shaped airplane windows.

Not even glass, they don’t even shine

just dull plastic that zones out the sky.

The clouds roll beneath me, tendrils

of the beauty I’ve dreamed of.

I yearn for an escape, but the air

pressure is holding my voice down.


into these seats, the seatbelt sign

is unblinking and will stay on forever,

even when the plane is crashing

even when it plummets towards the sea

and our hearts jump out of our mouths

and run away-

even when it sinks deep

below the surface, so icy our brains freeze and we

never even got a chance

to scream.

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