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Better Than Flying

I should have known.

By Rachel WilsonPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Eyelids were half close, half resistingto see the sun leak from curtains.

The thought of blankets becoming yearn and I knit stiff limbs into the fabric sounds appalling,but legs twitch and figures gasps air.

My body wants to fight. Not with you, but agenst you

How foolish could I be.

I gave you the bolt cutters, But instead of cutting chains, you cut feathers from my wings.

What could this happen?

I hate how you put me in this place where sun burns sight But, You don’t even care,do you?

This was a game,to see how far the lies could gountil they collapsed.

How can I fly with you pluckingout my feathers? I can’t, but as I crash to the ground I will learn how to runand it will be better than flying.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Rachel Wilson

Writing as been a hobby of my for awhile now. I love creating poetry, short stories and novels that range from death, monsters, horror, mystery to love, romance, friendships.

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