High
You know when you are up so high
Watching the clouds mingle with sunset
Sitting with two lovebirds defiant of age
Constantly listening to the tantrums of a toddler
A familiar noise
But closing my ears to all that because experience has taught me well how to ignore
Hungrily waiting for the meal
Guilty of throwing a quarter-full bottle of expensive water
Out of fear, out of lack of knowledge
Guilty of judging the parents of the toddler
Look at me, shame on me
Even entertainment that sits directly infront of me cannot quench my unknown thirst
And the constant turbulence only ignites so many last prayers from me
Even the tightly worn sitbelt cannot save
Am guilty to say that midway through my fears and prayers, I started writting my obituary. ...
And now as I write this, already tipsy from some very red wine, I listen to Beethoven
How did I even get here?
Waiting to disappear in some sweet slumber
Looking forward to drool all the saliva I can
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