Freefalling

It was you, who said,

I need space.

It was you, who said,

Get out my face.

It was you, who said,

You can be replaced.

It was you, who said,

I would never fall from your sweet, sweet, grace.

But like a bird with two fractured wings leaving the nest, I fell. It was more of a tailspin. But who knew that angels really do fall from heaven? Sometimes they do not drift down, gracefully; sometimes they fall, face first, disastrously.

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