that'd cross continents braving the storms of hatred to deliver packages of love.
We'd co-pilot our passengers across frozen sands and melting ice fields
and co-author our destinies on air bridges of dreams.
Until the cargo of memories became too heavy to bear and the fuel ran out.
Until we flew right into a city with skyscrapers one too many, too bright to see reality
We crashed into each other, bursting into flames that burnt all shades of purple;
Burning hearts fell like shooting stars but broke into a million fireflies.
And although we never reached our destination, the world saw magic on the horizon.
Since then I've sent my love up in the sky to a thousand airplanes,
dropping coins in a wishing well, wishing you were a passenger in one of them
so that you could feel what I'm not allowed to say anymore,
but want you to hear all the same.
The wreckage of love lies trapped in these glass windows.
I still try to break them with my gaze because when they shatter,
I'll build my art of redemption from every small piece that still reflects your face.
-Written at the Howard Beach AirTrain station, JFK Airport, New York City
Shane Koyczan says,
"It is not enough to bury what hurts us;
We must eulogize it.
Lay flowers upon the headstone and remember that we once quested to understand it
We smile when we satisfy ourselves with knowing why
Or haunt ourselves with never knowing"