[ 12. 8 ]
i can't touch the skies like this. everyone else has reached the sun and i'm still grounded here, not even getting to enjoy much sunlight because of their vibrant feathers being so wide in span, taking the sunshine.
i can't touch the skies like this. lately i've wanted more than anything to not be me. why are my feathers so dull? why can everyone else take to the skies at the blink of an eye, but land based is what i am? if what you've told me is true, i should've exited the mily way at this rate.
i can't touch the skies like this, but maybe i'm not meant to. land based and average is what i was, land based and average is what i am, land based and average is all i'll be.
YOU ARE READING
past oblivion.
Poetry"what can i really say?" used to be my words, when i didn't know as much. when i got older, i responded to myself. "everything." now, i realize that i can use my breath to speak on everything in existence, from dust on jupiter to the depths of hell...
