Atop this precipice, I sit and watch as the beasts wander the fields, from left to right, all in their places except for one. He grazes alone, and though his keeper turns a blind eye, he stays within his confines.
These dreams are temporary, but the memories are worth their weight in gold. And, when the lines have all faded from the sand, I hope their borders hold me in.
I’ve retraced lines on the maps that outline the fictitious fates that I've created to make a way for myself, above the walls, and out from under the loving hands that held me close; that kept me in.
I've mapped the constellations for years, but they haven't proven trustworthy just yet. I've stood on the shoulders of giants, but never saw past my own shadow. No!