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I was to carry the key but my anxiety Had gnashed my digits down to stumps. While the little bird grew back her plume. She finds herself beyond my fragile cage, The world is avant-garde, bright with bloom. But she looks back sorrowfully on me. “I’m sorry. It’s time for me to go now.” And all I can do is nod quietly. Swallow the bolder knit in my throat From the years we have built. Light as air, she steps into sunlight And I dissolve into darkness. So long as she fashions a smile I will fabricate one all the while.
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Jan 14, 2022
Jan 14, 2022 at 2:18 PM UTC
Stockholm
I was to carry the key but my anxiety Had gnashed my digits down to stumps. While the little bird grew back her plume. She finds herself beyond my fragile cage, The world is avant-garde, bright with bloom. But she looks back sorrowfully on me. “I’m sorry. It’s time for me to go now.” And all I can do is nod quietly. Swallow the bolder knit in my throat From the years we have built. Light as air, she steps into sunlight And I dissolve into darkness. So long as she fashions a smile I will fabricate one all the while.
Sonorant
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Jan 14, 2022
Jan 14, 2022 at 2:18 PM UTC
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