I have many wings. I will fly away.
Fluttering convulsions, but I escape.
Bumping walls and unkind others, I go.
Higher and higher, away from problems.
No cares or worries as the wind takes me.
Flapping then soaring. Dive down, then ascend.
A creature of comfort away from you.
My wings don’t get tired, bones are hollow.
Or membranes or webbed, avoidance device.
So far, so gone, such a time, no return.
Thumping and whooshing wind that carries me.
Such a soothing, refreshing companion.
Fingers through hair, silent intimacy.
Should I beware, children (ripped off wings)?
Broken, can’t fly, I will starve, but not cry.
Stolen blessings may not be mourned for loss.
Remembered memories of positive.
Reflection in the water, can’t dive through.
Shatter the illusion, I cling so tight.
Maybe a little nurture brings me back?
Starting as an infant, or dying, death?
My wings were freedom, now snapped, cracked, and popped.
A cruel man counts his losses, but I don’t.
Forget them easy, life returns normal.
The longing replaced with numbness and shame.