Wings

There is an emptiness in my back, where my wings used to be.
I feel cold and naked without their weigh,
I used to hug myself in them. Soft and warm.

I miss the haven they were,
The barrier they made between me and this harsh world.
With them gone, what am I?

The sky never looked so big,
so close and so far.
Never again shall I feel the ice cold air of the great heights.

The wind on my back makes me want to cry.
My skin is too soft, too new.
They are gone.