Paper Wings

My twisted mind was packed with washed out memories and faded dreams. My disappointed heart trembled at the thought that it could be broken once again. And my tired soul nearly choked because of the lack of hope.

There was nothing right about this place. I had been thinking about my escape from reality for a long time and had planned every little detail.

I cut out the wings from a solid piece of paper and painted them in the colors of the rainbow. I worked hard to make them good enough. They looked like they’d been ripped out of a butterfly your eyes had never seen.

Finally, when the wings were perfectly ready, I went upstairs to the rooftop and stepped into the night. The wings fluttered in the wind as it screamed right in my face: NO. But I refused to hear it.

I hoped my paper wings would take me to the stars. My only chance to get away. My mind, heart and soul all agreed they deserved something better.

When I was about to take off and fly, the rain poured down on me from the sky and the wings fell apart. The beautiful work was all for naught.

“Stay down there, girl,” the moon told me. “One day you’ll reach the stars, but it’s not your time yet.”

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