wings
wings poetry stories
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neutralfleur
neutralfleur curious being; inactive hobby poet
Autoplay OFF   •   3 months ago
escapism at its finest.

wings

i am neither a child

nor an adult

nor a bird

yet i flutter

my wings in anticipation

no longer will i keep them

folded like paper

hidden under hoodies

in notebooks

within the pages of maps

instead they help me soar

above the heaviness

above guilt

above fear

above sadness

and into the clouds

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