My room is empty except a
pillow...
But I drown in the feathers
that carry me
to illusions of flying
but I fall every time.
I wasn't like a bird, my
wings were decapitated
hard every time
I slept alone..
there was no one in my nest I
was alone..
I thought I was warm,
but in a nest of thorns I bleed
slowly...
I drowned in my own loneliness..
My nest was a tomb of never flown dreams...
Apr 3, 2020
Apr 3, 2020 at 7:59 PM UTC
My room is empty except a
pillow...
But I drown in the feathers
that carry me
to illusions of flying
but I fall every time.
I wasn't like a bird, my
wings were decapitated
hard every time
I slept alone..
there was no one in my nest I
was alone..
I thought I was warm,
but in a nest of thorns I bleed
slowly...
I drowned in my own loneliness..
My nest was a tomb of never flown dreams...
