Nottingham Academy (Ransom Road), 2014
Dear Maya,
Is the caged bird meant to be some kind of twisted glance into my head; the feelings I choke on as I swallow them whole, unwillingly? Or perhaps the dreams which I bury so deep inside of me that I have to double-check they’re even there, like my neighbour with OCD who looks out of his window thirty times a day just to check if his wife’s car is parked in the spot that remains empty. ps. It’s been three years, Phil. Alison isn’t coming back.
‘The caged bird sings with fearful trill of the things unknown but longed for still.’
Dear Maya,
Sometimes my wanderlust is too much for even me to handle. It is an underrated sickness like the love bug or anxiety and I think that I’ve come down with a case.
When I look up to the sky I don’t see clouds, but vast space. I see eternal opportunities and all I want to do is leap up and embrace it.
Dear Maya,
There’s more to life than this. As people, how are we meant to evolve, to become if everything is always the same: sadness Maya, now give me freedom and the unknown. I can’t wait to be.
