The clacking of my shoes tap quickly against the shingles on the roof. My red cape sways effortlessly behind my running body, while my eyes stay glazed full of water, as the cold night time air daggers my eyes the faster I run. No time to think, no time to blink. Side to side I sway, swooping past the midnight chimneys and the dinner time steam, swirling through my body as safe families lay comfortably below my rabbit like feet. The orange glow from the apartments below fade away from the light blue sky above. Car horns honk while violins play songs on the outer decks, platforms that float on the side of the tall brick buildings give everyone the chance to be seen and heard. I can sing, and I can write, but feeling is something truly made up of might. Songs of happy, and songs of sad, every violin has a story to tell as I find my foot steps running with the rhythm of the strings below. I jump not fly, but for flying is what I truly believe I can accomplish, air is something I truly believe I can become. Take out your contacts what do you see? Not bad vision my friend, what you see is a sea of air that you can touch and feel, air that you can breath in and out while moving between love and hate. At times you may rest upon desperate measures, hearing only violins that scream horrible crimes and never forgotten lies. Angry yells from others below, drowned out from the cold air that steers your ship closer to the blue glow.
I am an upper. I live high on roof tops with a belly full of coffee. I stay high and running forward for many different reasons. Coffee is not a choice, it is a must, without it my blessing becomes a curse. I am an upper, a person that needs to live high at all times, for when I am not high the bottom is much too low.... lower than most people will ever know. Prescribed energy drinks to keep my knuckles clean from blood. Red bulls to keep my thoughts from spiraling into a bottle of vodka. Monsters to keep the monsters away. Miss Brown eyes to keep the only rocks in my life the ice that dances in her soul.... the ice that makes me a better person. Don't look down, stay high. Keep chugging coffee so the streets of regret don't capture your progress onward.
The rain from the now cloudy dark blue sky makes the shingles wet and slippery, hard to run on and all so blurry. My vision gets lost by the cloud's fog, while my coffee gets low, my foot steps slow. I try my best not to look down, so I sip the last of my coffee before Miss Brown Eyes takes the deadly fall off the roof, ending her life by hitting the ground below. I stop my running in panic to find sugar, a feeling of life or death as my thoughts take over. No! I yell on top if this roof, as my hands shake and my head swivels from side to side, looking for anything that will keep me high. The families below slap their windows shut, keeping my double edged sword far from their now tucked away kids that lay safe in their beds. Millions of beds just like these, scattered below the roofs of so many like these. My legs tighten as my gut aches, the Monsters in my gut began to take. My knees hit the wet roof, and my hands fall into my head, my thoughts turning black from the blue sky's cloudy blend. My cape that once flapped effortlessly, now strangles my neck cutting off the air I once could see and feel. Now my high is looking low, my life that I once knew is burning slow. The violin sounds have now turned from love to death, motivating to straggling, higher than high to lower than low could ever go. The cape around my super hero neck finally cuts the pipes closed that once screamed motivations to those who ran fast over dinner cooked steam. Now I fall into the depth of my own demon.
Stay High 2016