just pull them off.
i don't
want
to try.
i don't care
if you
have to saw
them off,
i don't want
to look
at them when
i can
never have
you; melt
them if you
have to.
melt them with your
warm
eyes or your smile
that
lights up any room.
i wish
i
was the
fire
that lit
your
eyes or
the
wind that
held
your wings.
YOU ARE READING
plastic
Poetrymost wings are made of bones and skin and feathers, but what if mine are made of nothing but rubber and glue?
