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If someone were to give me wings, what would I do.

If someone were to give me wings, would I fly away? Would I dare? Would I summon up the courage and the integrity to take of and fly to that far, far away land.

I know with all my being that I want to get there. This clean untouched place that I have pictured up in my head. But me being a coward, I’m scared to venture of into the unknown when I’ve been somewhere comfortable enough to call well, not necessarily home, but a house. To know where I’ve kept last week’s dishes with my eyes closed, and know I have bum prints on my chairs.

So when someone comes along and tells me that they’d kidnap me and run away with me to the moon, it seems pretty hard to not fall; even though I know inside with all my heart I’m trying to stop myself. Trying to stop myself from something I’m scared of.

I’ve always been one to be afraid of heights, but what does this say when you make the fall look so appealing.