We are the dancer beginning to spin in her music box

We are the swimmers, dipping their feet into calm, steady waters

We are the bird, on its branch, preparing to take flight

We are the tightrope walker, taking their first step onto the rope

We are twirling effortlessly, gracefully

We are gliding, following the direction of the wind

We are balancing, confident in ourselves

We are strong and certain in our strokes

We are the music, beginning to slow

We are the wind, gaining force

We are the fear on a thin, tenuous thread over wide empty space

We are struggling, no longer in control

We are still, no longer beautiful or alive in our boxes

We are defeated, overwhelmed by gale forces

We are falling, into the emptiness, no end in sight

We are drowning, dragged downdowndown by the undertow

We are the hands winding the music box

We are the respite found in shelter

We are the safety net below

We are the light present beneath the water

We are brought back to life

We are ready to fly again

We are calm in the face of the unknown

We are breathing fresh air, granted a second chance

We are students of year twelve

Welcome to our simultaneous heaven and hell