I dance, swirling and spinning, arms outstretched, fingers wide, palms sweating. I can feel a beat, my beat, blood pumping through my body, driving me, beating, pulses through my body, wrists throbbing. My feet pound on the hard ground, still warm from the day’s sun. The field, my field is empty, all except for me.
My feet; becoming raw from the movement, faster I go. My body is calling from me, liberation and freedom, the earth is rejecting me, burning my feet and cutting my skin. Thorns and grasses grab at my ankles, twisting around them, gripping and tearing. Jumping higher, further from it all, everything, it could all just disappear; mind over matter.
Body jolting, I look up, feet rooted to the ground, I stare upwards, up at the clouds, heavy and expectant, it’s coming, I can feel it; soon. Yet still I’m waiting. Eyes clamping shut, agony at trying to keep them wide any longer. Warm, still air, is sticky. Sweat dripping down my skin, limbs agitated, needing what is about to come. Spinning, the world is lost in swirls, grey, bleak colours blend together in one almighty hurricane emotion.
I can do anything, anything at all, if only I could believe those words, believe I needed so much to feel. Would it really make any difference though?
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