Flight

[fluorescent.43]

Finalish revision:

there was a little girl who loved the world.
today's july.

the years are falling
through my fingers.

i live in (the ownership of) a dream where
flames lick my neck and tattoo my wrist.

is it possible
to drown in my ashes?

there was a little girl who believed
she could make things last.
that we'd be playing with the clouds;
that we'd be stringing stars through a broken chain.
that we'd have time.

there was a little girl who realized
she was losing herself
in a sea of suburban skies.
next july i'll be not-quite sixteen,
and no time left for this dreaming shit.

i'll say this to you:
don't forget where your abandoned dreams sit.

there was a little girl who cocked her gun
and thought everyone was a target.
i pulled the trigger and-
-and the sun was swallowed by a bottleneck sky and-
-and the flames made me cry.

there is a young woman who doesn't know
if she's strong enough to
stand below a blue sky.
teen spirit spews forth,
staining my hands.

i stand on red clay...
skeletons are buried here.

there is a young woman who who wants to fly.
the weight of reality ties
her ankles to the earth.

Revision (lots of thanks to Todd and Billy for the critique!):

there was a little girl who loved the world.
today’s july.

the years are falling
through my fingers.

i live (in the ownership of) a dream where
flames lick my neck and tattoo my wrist.

it’s burning me.

there was a little girl who believed
she could make things last.
that we’d be playing with the clouds;
that we’d be stringing stars through a broken chain.
that we’d have time.

there was a little girl who realized

i’m losing myself.

next july i’ll be not-quite sixteen.
no time left for this dreaming shit.

don’t forget where your abandoned dreams sit:
piled on my shoulders, etched in my eyes.

there was a little girl who cocked her gun
and thought everyone was a target.
i pulled the trigger and—
—and the sun was swallowed by a bottleneck sky and—
—and the flames made me cry.

there is a young woman who doesn’t know
if she’s strong enough
to stand below a blue sky.
the teen spirit i carry
is spilling over, staining my hands.

i stand on red clay…
skeletons are buried here.

there is a young woman who wants to fly.
the weight of reality ties
her ankles to the earth.

when did it begin to start?
...was it ever there
to begin with?

fire, guttering on paper scraps
smoke, rising from what’s being burned.

[[note: is this revision too long? should i pare it down?]]

Original:

there was a little girl who loved the world.
today’s july (my god, where do the years go?
they’re falling through my fingers)
i live in (the ownership of) a dream where
flames lick my neck and tattoo my wrist.

there was a little girl who believed
she could make things last.
that we’d keep on fighting this idealistic war,
that we’d be stringing stars through a broken chain.
that’d we have time.

there was a little girl who realized
she was losing herself.
next july i’ll be not-quite sixteen,
and no time left for this dreaming shit
(don’t forget where your abandoned dreams sit)

there was a little girl who cocked her gun
and thought everyone was a target.
until her eyes blurred, and the scene changed—
a different war, lined in bloody guts.
laugh all you want, but i’ll just keep on
marching, with my flickering torches of pretense.

there’s a young woman who doesn’t know
what she’s fighting for.
nothing harder than teen spirit,
but it’s spilling over, staining my hands.
(when did i grow so strong?)

there’s a young woman who wants to fly.
the weight of reality ties her ankles to the earth.
(when did it begin to start?
fire, guttering on paper scraps
smoke, rising plaintively from what’s being burned)