So Sentimental

     The blackbird opened her wings for the first time today. She lived in a world filled with grey, blind people who tended to bump into each other, never getting anywhere but to the places they had already been. Her blind eyes flashed in the silver light; the embers in her chest grew bright as a wind of passion wound itself into her mind. Her arms arched smoothly, delicately up her sides and into the air. From her arms sprang her hopes and dreams, her fear, her rage, her desperation. As these feelings rushed through her bones like water through a broken dam, the feelings became raven feathers, binding themselves to her skin. She couldn’t let them go, and now they would never let her go. There was no turning back, she knew. Her spindly fingers floated on the breeze as the nails extended to claws.

     She looked down upon her world—sensing it, but not seeing it. She heard the shuffles, sighs, and grunts of her fellows busily shifting. She felt the sadness emanating like a fog as it burned her eyes and seared her nostrils. Salty blood ran down her face, leaving watery patterns on her cheeks and neck. She wept. With blood-lined eyelashes, she arched her back and stared up to the place called the sky. Her shoulders snapped painfully out of socket as her wings continued to develop further. Change. Change is what her world needed, and this is what she intended to bring. With this fact in her mind, her blind eyes flashed with color; and, like a deafening crash, her vision came nauseatingly into focus. A silent scream stretched across her face as she beheld the black clouds above her and then her grey friends below her. She took in her claws and wings with fascination, finally seeing herself as no one else ever had. She was the blackbird. Her name was Hope.

     The blackbird surveyed her world below, and knew what must be done, now. Fear wriggled inside of her, but she knew there was no other option. It was her turn—it was her time.

     She relaxed her wings momentarily before stretching them to their full potential. The stretch felt easy, causing a sigh of satisfaction to pull through her lungs. And with that, she knew no more fear. From her high perch, she dove with the grace of a dove. Her wings fluttered behind her as she learned the wind. Her feet stood on the sky, her face watching her fate. She closed her eyes, trusting her instincts better than her sight. Just as she felt death was upon her, she beat her wings. The sudden gusts of wind caused surrounding bystanders to shutter and feel around for the source; but she was high above them by then. She pushed herself further and further into space. She was the blackbird; the girl who would never kiss the ground again.