Fleeing

This time I decide not
To die. Tired 
Of carrying an empty

Case of bones and flesh,

Tired of the cold

I flap my wings 

(Flying papers)

To flee the north,

The night, to feel

The sun flirting 

Wih my face. I could 

Have cried. The night waiting

For my tears to submerge

Word by word on this page.

I could have been eaten.