I'm so used to taking detours
That the beaten path feels unfamiliar
Accustomed to the odd root,
Protruding vine,
Or muddy slope,
My feet fall unsteady
Expecting obstacles
And being met with even ground
I walk in the open air, and it's strange
It's strange to see the world
Sprawl out in front of me
With barriers I typically encounter
Cleared before I reach them
I hardly feel allowed
To walk as I do

One day, my steps will be sure
And the open air will feel natural
But for now,
I'm unsteady