kyndallrae

creating me [using words]

Hope of Wings

I went out on a limb
and the limb is snapping.
Will the fall break me?
Will pieces of me be lost
in the tumble?
Will I stop climbing trees
after a spill?
Will my budding belief in myself
get scraped away with the skin
of my elbows?
Are the things I believe about me
true? The good things, the hope
of wings, the magical things,
what I thought I saw? True?
False? Which way is up?
Falling back towards the roots
to land in the sky.

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