For a while I used to think about running away, becoming a pilot and flying away to escape the world. I imagined disappearing into the moon and seeing the stars. I still think of flying away, but the dream looks different now. I still see the stars but before that I see the world beneath me, and my feet on the edge of a bridge.
YOU ARE READING
The poems I carved from my wounds
PoetrySomeone once told me life doesn't come at you it comes from you. You're the caption of your soul, the master of your fate. If that were true I'd have a phatty right now.
