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Jun 2017
The plane from above passes my bedroom window at the same hour everyday. Memories brew, my thoughts are allude. My phone against my ear, boarding on that plane. You told me you loved me, you'd never feel the same. Soft music plays as the pilot intertwines words about the flight and arrival time. Recalling, falling, drifting on a highway of past words. You cried, and so did I. Then the plane took off, I was in the sky.
Emily Raso
Written by
Emily Raso  29/Non-binary/Canada
(29/Non-binary/Canada)   
296
 
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