She can no longer fly.

I wish you would just give me a sign.
I don't know-
At least a smile?
A careless shrug?
A brief glance over your shoulder as your silhouette fades into the distance? (Eaten up by rough red tiles that burn in the mid-morning sun)
Before, I know it, you're gone (without a trace).
Yet again.
And all that's left of this trivial rendezvous is nothing more than an asinine girl standing in the glorious sunshine-
the resplendent rays of light illuminating her chest, baring the crushed organ within.
Valiantly, yes, every-so-valiantly,
she turns and tries (keyword being 'tries') to plunge into the depths of that all-too-familiar baby blue dotted with magnolia clouds-
But wait,
See those crippled, incapacitated things fluttering behind her?
You've maimed them beyond repair, and she,

She can no longer fly.