dizzy heights?

In speaking our mind do we honour our truth or kamikaze into opinion?

The clouds struggle to touch the earth, pulling blankets o'er the horizon. My ambitions melt. I question my stamina. Write love letters to inspiration.

I am already tierd of things I don't want to do. I am numbering my desires and counting my chickens.

Commitment elludes me.
I am still unsure
of what I want to be.