To Create is How I Live.

I'll Fly Away

I stare at the soft-glow of the setting sun and I wonder what it would be like to fly with the birds. Would I be able to fly to the ends of the earth and see the beauty that is so far away from this gray apartment building? Wrapped in my cotton bathrobe, all I have to do is step over the cast-iron railing and spread my arms. I bet I could fly, if only for a moment.

The cold wind whips my ragged hair over my shoulders, exposing to the world the kind of love my husband has for me.

My bruised lips part as I sigh and let the frustration out. I am frustrated that no matter how much I want to fly, I remain grounded. My love and fear for my husband keeps me here in his apartment.

Still, I dream that one day, a pair of wings will take me miles away - maybe to the sea or a forest of green. It’s so close that I can feel the fresh air, yet I still can’t see it. Closing my tired eyes, I reach my foot out and feeling the air whisk past. This day feels like a good day to fly.

Maybe I'll just jump.