Follow the Leader | Teen Ink

Follow the Leader

August 28, 2013
By emilymurphy BRONZE, Fairfield, Connecticut
emilymurphy BRONZE, Fairfield, Connecticut
4 articles 9 photos 3 comments

Turn the wheel.
Don’t let me fall.
Promise me you’ll shower me with petals.
Follow me down the road, up into the mist.
Underline my every word, italicize forever.
Lead me at the front, support me when I fray.

Fly with me through the fog, through the wind, through the burns.
Drag me out of bed in the morning.
Draw me when I’m closed, help me with the blinds.
Run off path, dip into the night.

Zip me up, zip me off, zip me through, zip me toppling.
Stab my heart, yank my feet.
Tackle me till I bleed, till I break.
Freeze me once more.

Shut me off when I’m someone else, guide me under the bridge.

Click clack click clack.
I lost you.
You dipped too deep.
I hear those beeps.

It’s guiding me. Who is it?
It’s bright.
It’s saving me.
It’s you.

But then I hear you. I feel you pulling my bones out of my sockets, I hear my skin cracking, it’s exfoliating.
Something is gurgling, it’s bubbling.

Herbal tea is being brewed. As the scents grow further away, I start to smell the drains.
I’m being drained out. I’m bleeding, but the pain feels nice. It means I’m growing, I’m loosing what I had; I’m happy.

But then you left me. You left me to bleed. By myself, I’m alone.
The thing is, that it’s stopped bleeding, but I’m still drowning.

I hear the gurgling once again.

My soul is being swallowed by the gulf of heaven. It’s sitting on my shoulder.
Mice crawl through, picking away at me; angelic it looks, but somehow I see through it.
The stained glass is now clear. I see clearly.

I now understand what I have to do.
I ease the pain, I cover it with blankets. I wear ear muffs, I drive a loud car.
I hide within the night, within layers. Layers, which I’m peeling off.
And somehow, the breadcrumbs lead me back to a place:

The place I’ve been avoiding, the place I’ve been hiding from. In a branch, that’s wobbling, and sobbing. Weeping. It’s the willows. I’ve got the willows.
Such a time is difficult. I’m dancing through life, without hearing the music. Trying not to miss a beat, makes me trip. I’m once again on the floor. I stomp, drift up.
Through the wind, I fly. This time, no one is by my side.
But eventually, I see where I’m supposed to be.

Quitting is easy, but finding the light is what makes the flight fly. It’s what supports the wings.
These wings are what I’ve had all along.
You have the wings on your back, whereas I have the wings on my head.
It triggers my insides.

The lantern is lit and I ride my bicycle through the night, through the graveyard, by myself. But I’m not by myself. Because my soul, is the one who now follows me. Hollow inside, might be true, but follow the leader, and I follow the signs.

The author's comments:
A metaphor was never so powerful and significant to my life..until I wrote this poem.

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