The skin on my back will splinter and break, as growth doesn't come without pain.
I will catch flight, reveling in the sensation of gliding across the sky.
Someday I will grow wings.
And fly far, far away.
To a place where we don't need protests, a place without this fear.
Someday I will grow wings.
I will never be caged again,
Never held back by their opinions, by this country.
Someday I will grow wings.
I will fly into houses filled with terror and pain.
I will lift babies from their beds, and take them far away.
Someday I will grow wings.
So I can fly above warzones.
My wings will shield the people whose only sin is existing
at the wrong place, the wrong time.
Someday I will grow wings.
So maybe, just maybe, I can make the world a better place.
Swoop over the big powerful men, and sprinkle them with fairy dust.
Maybe, just maybe, I can make them feel something.
We are, after all, humans, characterized by our art, our curiosity, our communities.
So why is it then, that we must pray for mythical creatures to save us from our own species?
When I grow wings one day, I want to be proud to say that I was a human, a creature made of love.
Dec 2, 2025
Dec 2, 2025 at 4:49 PM UTC
The skin on my back will splinter and break, as growth doesn't come without pain.
I will catch flight, reveling in the sensation of gliding across the sky.
Someday I will grow wings.
And fly far, far away.
To a place where we don't need protests, a place without this fear.
Someday I will grow wings.
I will never be caged again,
Never held back by their opinions, by this country.
Someday I will grow wings.
I will fly into houses filled with terror and pain.
I will lift babies from their beds, and take them far away.
Someday I will grow wings.
So I can fly above warzones.
My wings will shield the people whose only sin is existing
at the wrong place, the wrong time.
Someday I will grow wings.
So maybe, just maybe, I can make the world a better place.
Swoop over the big powerful men, and sprinkle them with fairy dust.
Maybe, just maybe, I can make them feel something.
We are, after all, humans, characterized by our art, our curiosity, our communities.
So why is it then, that we must pray for mythical creatures to save us from our own species?
When I grow wings one day, I want to be proud to say that I was a human, a creature made of love.
Not perfect by a long shot but maybe its not supposed to be
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