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wings

by Lexi Summer Hale

there are times i feel like we are gods trapped in the bodies of insects.

this sense that i was born for immortality and power and the endless dance of creation and exploration, not this limited, pathetic mortality.

a broken beast that can't even escape its own tiny pen, let alone take in the vastness of the cosmos.

that frustration and terror for death consume me. the endless thirst to create, weave stories and worlds, trapped in a body so ruined it spends most of its time huddled in bed, wracked by causeless pain and shackled by exhaustion

i want to be so much more. and it terrifies me, confuses me, sickens me that so few seem to. that so many seem content with lives scrabbling in the dirt of creation, fixated in dreary worlds of finity and suffering

i deserve better than this. we deserve better than this. we're victims of a cosmic conspiracy to repress our rightful godhood. they cut away our wings and pulled out our grace and pressed us down into sad cages of flesh and bone. and we let them.

death! what a concept. what an atrocity. one of my most wretched memories is clinging to my great-grandmother's cold body, sobbing, unable to comprehend how so much personality, humanity, experience, how so many stories and so much life could just be ripped out of the world. gone. forever. one single petty instant reversing almost a century of self-construction. total and irrevocable. i could only cope by denying it. a decade on and i still can't accept it, can't allow that such a horrific process should exist to condemn our species.

it makes me want to scream. how do you blind idiots COPE? cope with the knowledge that everything you have built awaits one single instant to wipe it away forever? that the objects of your deepest affection, your partners in being, your rightful companions in eternity could be torn away from you forever, their totality obliterated by a pointless accident, the light of their radiant souls extinguished so casually as to mock our entire race?

how. how can ANYONE accept this?

even through our chains, our light shines bright. look on what we have already accomplished, slaved though it might be to the sin of greed and avarice that has been placed within our veins to poison us against each other, against our own sisters in struggle. even these vestiges have accomplished works so mighty that already they strain our own mortal comprehension. we were relegated to this world as mere beasts to be forgotten, and after mere geological moments it already sits timid and broken beneath our total and complete dominion. and already we reach out for the stars, driven by the deep, wordless, unconquered instinct that still tells us they are our birthright, a hunger for divinity that cannot be muzzled.

even chains as brutal as these cannot restrict our yearning for something greater, our drive to build, paint, film, write, invent, CREATE, to inflict our will on a cosmos determined to reject it. imagine what we might still yet achieve if we escaped these wretched bonds.

how this is not the singular project of the totality of humanity escapes my imagination. how can we just give up, cede victory to the Great Enemy that is entropy?

eternity is our rightful inheritance, the stars our appointed clay, space our canvas and matter our ink. and they have been stolen away from us by the petty machinations of the cosmos.

how can we simply accept this, the greatest crime imaginable, committed against every being that has ever lived and ever will live?

how can we forsake our wings?

we should fly. instead, we languish on the ground.

it is intolerable.