It’s been fall for two days and I can already feel
the crisp in the air. It makes the hair on my arms
stand up. I breathe in deep breaths to take as much
as this magic in as I can. This is my favorite time of
year because it’s gone in a blink of an eye. It’s delicate,
for this beauty comes from the change of leaving the
earth. Orange leaves stay on the grass until they
get raked up on the weekend.
Thousands of feet up in the air,
I’m trapped in this metal tube.
I feel dizzy and I’m not spinning.
Overheated from the lack of air circulation.
Head throbbing that will eventually turn into a migraine after I land.
I close my eyes and the spinning becomes faster.
Minutes move along like hours.
I can’t read the book I want to read.
I can’t look at my phone for longer than 5 seconds,
Just long enough to change the song.
I look forward to the blue chair in front of me.
Nothing is working.
The amount of feeling awful comes in waves.
I sleep for a minute or two, just enough to numb the nauseousness
before the turbulence causes the spinning to return.
I feel like I’m going to throw up but I know I won’t.
I don’t get physically sick from motion sickness.
I just feel awful as my mood plummets to the ground we’re flying over.
I repeat these words in my head because I can’t write this down.
I’m hoping I will remember this when I do.
The scariest thing about taking a risk is jumping off the cliff.
You’re not sure if you will know how to fly as you say goodbye.
The view is beautiful but also leaves you in a state of shock.
It’s only when you jump, will you know you will fly farther than you’ll fall.