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Michelle Garcia Feb 2017
You have always dreamed of aviation,
cellophane wings glued to your heartstrings--
my marionette lover of hopes hanging high
enough to abolish the air from heavy lungs.

I watch your cavern chest rise but never fall,
tsunami tides engraved permanently airborne,
intertwining hands with time as suspension
silences destruction.

Time does not exist here--only periwinkle
veins illuminated by morning light,
wispy eyelashes beginning their ascension.

You are all light, and altitude, and grace.

I am grounded, tethered to comfort, but
the curvature of your spine breathes sanctuary.
Your shoulders-- broad, significant--
as if to fingerpaint the alpines you will ascend
once the wrath of gravity is conquered.

When your parachute soul finally gathers
enough strength to pilot the destined flight,
I hope you remember to save
a window seat for my heart.
Today was one of those days
Where nothing goes wrong
But still life has its ways
Where it all feels too long

Nothing really happened
The world didn't end
But still you feel a rend
It's like your hearts a little bent

For no particular reason
Yiu just keep failing
Its not simply a season
And for an instant you think about bailing

But you keep on pushing
And you just have to trust
Its like your on a wing
And suddenly you see rust
And your heart leaps
But deep inside
Your heart still beats
Because you see the wing is wide
And you know you can trust
In the pikot of the plane
And though occasionally
Your faith will wain
The pilots is better than Sully
So you keep your head up
And thank your lucky stars
That your above all these cars
That you can see the world
And so you breathe and look out
And you smile and lose your doubt
Because you put your faith
Not in the plane
But in the one who flies it.
Emma S Jan 2017
Taking that first magical step out of the plane. The heat strikes you, the humidity is overwhelming.
Taking a seat in the first taxi. The prettiest of palm trees, magnificent skyscrapers trying to reach over the clouds.
Smoking the first cigarette, drinking the first drink.
New people, old people, bars, laughter, beaches, tattoos, sunshine.

Taking that first dreadful step out of the plane.
The cold punches you, the dry air takes your breath away.
Taking a seat in the old familiar car. Cold grey snow trying to stay on the highway.
Smoking only half a cigarette, it's better to be inside.
Old people, old news, grey skies, still the tattoos but lack of sunshine.

Snap out of it. Back to reality.
Bring me back soon.
Audrey Maday Nov 2016
I spend my life in exit rows
Ready to pull the door at moments notice
And escape
Devin Ortiz Oct 2016
Tonight I get on a plane
Back home, to the place
That I left behind. The place
Where I packed up my things
Where I say goodbye and left.

But tonight I'll return. I wonder
What that will that be like. To return
To go back. How will I feel. Shall
Nostalgia take over and nuzzle me
As I embrace sweeter memories.

Or as I predict, will I learn that,
I can never go back. That what I
Left behind will never be. And that
Now, where I am, before this plane
Before I return is what waits for me.
Dylan Jones Oct 2016
So there was this boy, actually my little brother
He was, uh, on an airplane and
He's flying to come home to me and my dad
Sailing above the largest ocean
On planet Earth and he was seated
Next to this woman who
He tried his best to make conversation
And really the only thing
My brother heard her say was to order a sprite
The woman was sitting there and she's reading
This, This really arduous magazine article about a
Third world country that she couldn't
Even pronounce the name of and
My brother's feeling very bored and very despondent
And then, suddenly there's this huge mechanical failure and one of the engines gave out
And they started just falling, thirty thousand feet
And the pilot's on the microphone and he's saying
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Oh My God, I'm Sorry"
And apologizing and he looks at the woman and he says
"Where are we going?" and she looks at him and she says
"We're going to a party, it, it's a birthday party
It's your birthday party, happy birthday darling
We love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very much."
And then, uh, she starts humming this little tune
Right before--
s Aug 2016
anxiety kicks down the door
and holds you at gunpoint-
he, who is the most unforgiving of all,
does not care where you come from,
what you’re doing, who you’re with.
he hijacks the system. he takes over
the plane you were trained to fly. he
is a terrorist who you cannot escape
from and you cannot imprison.

you are not safe in your body.
first piece, edited
s Aug 2016
anxiety is a terrorist
who holds me at gun point
and hijacks the plane that
i should be flying.
i don't know where we're headed
or what i'm going to do.

i am not safe on my own.
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