balloon

I often wonder what if I was a balloon
I marvel at what it may be like to resemble one
to have someone want to hold me tight

To never feel obligate to let go, or want to
but instead I slip through their fingers
and I begin to search for something, anything

What would I discover in a place unknown?
an area that was safe and exempt from all evil?
what would happen to me when released?

What would occur to me as a balloon
when I’m beyond sight, would I burst
or survive and continue to flow freely?
SEG

*I remember writing this poem at a county fair when I was a senior in high school.  Most of the poetry posted on my website was written during my teens and twenties.  There are a few exceptions but typically I find myself wanting to journal regularly and write poetry if inspired.  Poetry has been my therapist during many trying times.  I have decided to post these poems because it reflects my history with suicidal depression and the struggles I encountered trying to cope with life and depression.