I wanted to tell you this forever.
But I thought that you'd laugh.
I wanted to not lie. But you'd think I was weird.
And now... that you're dying, I'll tell you. I can fly.
I can sore among the clouds, chasing the birds, feeling the wind comb my hair.
If I told you, I would take you with me, so we could sit on the clouds together. Watching the sunset, before the sky turned dark. Before you died.
Before you were history, I wanted to do so many things with you. I wanted the atmosphere to cradle you. I wanted the sun to shine off of your skin.
But now you're nearly gone. If only I could bring back that fragment in history, I would take you up just one day.
Just one day to see the cars as ants, so high up you couldn't see people, and the buildings, they looked like anthills.
Just one day to get away from it all, to be free. Just once more.
Just. Once. More.
We would be free from pain, hurt, it all. We would be free, alone. Making a living on the clouds, and as they would glide by, we would see the world.
What I would give to go back, to see the entire world with you. Even just once. I'll miss you. Forever.
I'll try to sore up and greet you in heaven. And I'll show you that I can fly.