You see this cliff
I wanted to see how to fly, to learn to spread my wings.
This cliff was where I stood, and thought of what I might do, of what might happen
Thoughts rushed through my head like the wind rushed through my hair.
From him, to friends, to the end all together
I stared down at my fate, and let out a sigh
I could never fly because I knew that it was wrong
He told me to think of what others would do, the tears that would wash out their hearts
He told me not to, I could not fly
I stood on that cliff looking down at the ground
And in that moment I stepped back from the edge
Because I was not ready to die
YOU ARE READING
Little stories of a Girl
Poesíatake what you think when you see the word 'girl'. and then take the word 'different'. because every 'girl' is 'different' to what you might think. and this is a story about those girls
