Once I was bird.
All I knew how to do was fly, and eat, and sleep, and glance at things quickly.
One day, I found myself studying the sky quite intently.
So big, and blue, and never ending.
If only I could touch it.
Why shouldn’t I touch it?
So I flew up, up, up, to the big, blue sky.
I flew as high as I could, sometimes on different angles, wondering where it would end.
My wings worked tirelessly, and I could feel the earth far below me, stretching further and further away.
The sky felt so close, yet it felt so far away.
All I wanted was to reach out and feel it, have it wrap itself around me, I wanted to live inside that sky.
I wanted to sit so high that all I could do was watch everything at once.
Never again glancing for a moment.
Never again having every memory be a fleeting one.
I awoke on the ground, with no wings.
Staring at the sky. Unblinking. Unshifting my gaze.
If only I could be up there looking down.
If only I could look away.
If only I were still a bird.
Like I was, once.