Black box

Reaching for you as earth says its goodbye.
What is this thing that takes flight.
Soaring through uncharted and terror drenched clouds.
As I look for monsters out the window.
If this plane were to fall from the sky.
Tear into the ground.
This thing wrapped in meaning.
Would it leave a hole in my heart?
Would it turn me to dust?
A fallen bird needing to fly, this thing called love.

6 thoughts on “Black box

    • If it’s meant to be, it will be i guess. Can’t escape fate…at least not entirely. We can change it though, if we work on ourselves i think; making things better.

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