Do you ever worry you’re losing yourself

as you slip into the sea?

As its soft echoing whisper, questions

who you’re meant to be?

Do summer gales unbalance you

with the sweetest contact?

Why do the rocks surrounding me press their shadows like shackles,

so that I cannot unfold my wings?

If there is a reason to be here,

then is it right to mourn the loss of time?

Maybe if these questions starve for long enough,

I can stretch my wings

leap from this rock

and fly.

For stitch

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