will for wings

I don't hate that I created you I just hate that you don't know
that I'm incapable of imagining a you that does.
Oh,  if I had a will for wings...
If I had a will for wings
I'd see that even clear things cast shadows,
just lighter ones.
I'd see that all things are clear things,
even ideas.
And shadows aren't reflections.
In dreams I imagined everyone I knew,
and I forgive myself for not knowing that
 so were you.
Since when did my heart become an extremity?
When I learned to use it in everyday things?
Sometimes it's the first to shiver, to wilt up and detach
Sometimes I forget that life is a patchwork quilt that has holes
to be patched.