Floppy Fly
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Unshackle those wings and watch it carve through the heavens—this creature wasn’t born to linger in cages or crawl through dirt. Every feather thrums with the hunger to ride wild winds, to vanish where clouds fray at the horizon. Chains snap when it climbs, leaving gravity’s grip as dust. Don’t cage what thrives in tempests. Don’t clip what exists to pierce storms. Let it vanish into that endless blue, a speck of defiance against the sun. Freedom isn’t given—it’s torn from the sky with talons and grit. So stop shouting. Stop clutching. Let it burn its name across the atmosphere until even the stars forget how to hold it.
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