When you were young, you’d wonder whether your swing could flip over the metal bar at the top, swing you all the way around and throw you to the ground bruised and broken. When you were a kid, you though it could happen, but you weren’t afraid. All grown up; you know it can’t happen, but you’re filled with fear. You swing slower, instead of pumping for the sky. You don’t jump off, you slow yourself to a stop. You’d never fling yourself into air mid-swing, because you’re no longer dreaming of flying, You’re just worrying about how you’re going to land.

(via poeticheartache)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s