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.

Yes, it’s pity love has to crash before we find out the secret of the black-box
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If we surround our heart with the same protective metal as the black box, we may survive yet.
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Sounds like a pause-able idea Mark 💕
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The words and visual posts you create are Magnificent congratulations to you 💥💥💥💥💥
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We are always, playing that game of Russian roulette with fate every time we get on a flight, not knowing, if we’ll arrive at our destinations in one piece.
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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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