she rested in circles

She thought the sky was always dark. Ominous. Brooding.

One day she realized this wasn't true. The blue just hides. Often.

Brightness, she found, beckoned her.

Hues of periwinkle and silver and incandescent pearl. Sun streams of golden orange danced on her skin. Bounced off of the crumpling asphalt.

She felt the world breathe her in. The embrace of it constrained her fight, yet gave her strength. That day, she felt as if she could do anything.

She felt like she could fly.

And there she was. Soaring. High above the world she knew. The omnious layer of black far below her. The sun beating on her new glow. She was light. Lifted. Loved. She knew the feeling wouldn't last, but for now - it was everything.

Eventually the landing came. Like a piercing thud that threatened to tear her very marrow. Ripped in two. Words and shrieks and oppression. Squeezing the life out of who she was. Or who she knew she could become.

She wouldn't think of that for now.

So she soared. Alone--but embraced. Spun in silver and gossimer. Clouds of cashmere called her name. So softly. Not quite a whisper.

Anything was possible. She nearly believed it up there.

And then she heard.

Words beckoning.

Life calling.

The heaviness of the day.

Familiarity.

The mundane.

As she landed, she thought she might die. She stopped breathing -- just for a few minutes.

Holding her breath helped the impact. Helped her survive what she hated.

And there was her life. Waiting.

She tried to remember how she felt five minutes before.

Impossible. But she remembered warm colors.

She tried to rest. But she kept running in circles. Over and over and over again.

She felt something in her pocket. A piece of cashmere.

Glimmering like only hope could.

A treasure.

They told her there would be a next time.

She didn't remember why. She just simply believed it was true.