The card gets folded into
a paper plane,
paper memories,
paper friendship.
But paper planes don't prepare you
for the real thing.
The deafening roar of the engine
and the word "goodbye"
is what really made my ears ache.
I promise you, it has nothing to do
with science or air pressure.
And cookies taste stale
like airplane food,
sitting alone in the lunchroom.
I can't breathe, all of the sudden,
because I'm not really here,
but floating, thousands of feet above myself.
Saying goodbye is the airplane
that never ever lands.
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