There are things you did that I can’t explain. Your were the plane and I was the pilot who let you fly. There are buttons I pressed that I shouldn’t have but they saved both us from crashing landing. Adding to my heroism was a subtraction for nobody really cared about our smooth landing, not even us. It’s almost like we were destined to move in a certain speed that neither of us could ever control.
When high above, the world was so small yet beautiful and we were mega lovers. In the real world, what we had—was so small yet bountiful, but not enough. Now all I care about is where you lay your head. As you get out there on your own, I hope that you are okay. As you head on with your life, whether on a plane or plainly flying in thoughts; all that matters is that you are safe.
Black Roses 