A mutant hung above the shack I called my own.
Crocodile fangs and bangs.
Wishing I was a creature like her,
she asked me to follow her to the sewers.
Being forsaken never looked so charming.
I liked her, so I followed.
She took me down.
She fed me snake blood and I mixed it with *****.
We crept and crawled through the filth
in search of hints to our own meaning.
She explains to me that in the sewers,
time and space become illusions,
and now is all that matters.
My shoulders began to sprout little nodes
that turned to feathers,
that turned to wings.
But I didn’t know yet how to fly.
She led me out of the sewers
and grabbed my by the hand.
She kissed me on the cheek
and as she flew away she said,
"Tomorrow we can learn to fly."