Sharing from The Drabble

“Bridges mean nothing to those with wings…” love that line!

By D.F. Parizeau In the silence between hurricanes, expired passports and paper planes, I’ve spent too many days contemplating my retreat; bridges mean nothing to those with wings. The pain of leaving sits crimson in my chest. Must I fall before first flight? Skin raw from each defeat: I jump, I fall, I fly.

via “Airplane Mode” —

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