I only want wings when the winds are strong
I only feel cold when the turmoil in my mind and heart are overwhelming
I only lay in the non-newtonian black substance so that I don't have to
Deal with everything
I'm sick of these beliefs that remain rooted in my mind
So deeply rooted they've upheaved whatever parts that used to rest in my heart,
Wasted away any comfort my heart had left in it

And maybe I'd want wings to see the skies
And feel the cold because I genuinely miss it's sensation
And lay in non-newtonian substances to explore the feeling of it
But I question where the drive of my curiousity left to;
If it had escaped before it was forcibly ripped from my heart or
If it decayed and it's rot continues to fester in my heart

These feelings of mine I want to respect...
How do you respect the body you only know how to leave