He plucked my wings, like some delicate flower. Called me strange and banished me from ever flying again. I had convinced myself that I was frightened of flying, that it did not matter. I watched from his bedroom window as he buried them beneath the ground. It was not until I met you, that I missed soaring above the clouds. You gifted me newfound, more magnificent wings. You taught me to soar again. Oh, how I missed the open skies. The endless sunsets and sunrises, and even more breathtaking with you.
