Painted Wings

My swing set is suspended

by ephemeral clouds,

dissipating to time despite

every effort.

Soon, I will be divested

of artificial wings,

unable to see

beyond the boundless horizons,

free falling as reality is displaced.

I will awaken and learn

I’ve fallen from what I used to be

watching as the rain washes

away the possibilities

I thought would forever last.

Nostalgia floods into me as I’m downed

by my past.

Bryce christopher

Bryce Christopher holds degrees in neuroscience, psychology, and computer science. As a poet, he has found his inspiration in the unlikeliest of space between having Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and Dilated Cardiomyopathy. By sharing his experiences with chronic pain, Bryce hopes readers will challenge their own perspective on the way pain cycles, grief, and how living can change in a matter of seconds. When Bryce is not studying, working, or writing, he enjoys drawing, discovering new music, and exploring hiking trails.