I’ve always wanted wings to spread,
despite my fear of heights.
I’ve dreamt of color
and butterflies gliding through the sky.

But I was destined to spend my days
bolted to the ground.
Born of lead,
reality clings to me, and to it I am bound.

So I ignored when they warned me
about creatures of the night,
and never realized that I could attract moths
just from being so bright.

Reality is but fleeting moments
of lightness,
and now the places I’ve felt most free are tainted
by dead moths that deem me flightless.