pistachio21

By pistachio21

If she let it

She couldn’t remember the exact moment she knew she wanted to fly
Except that she was young and budding
With a vague sense of dryness welling around her
And although she would not have been able to speak it
Even to herself
She knew too the risk that such dryness carried
That it would seep into her
Until life slowly faded

If she let it

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