i feel quite insignificant

like a small, frail, broken-winged bird

cradled in the hand of a man who does not know I am fragile

i am made of glass and ribbons which bind my feet to this wretched earth

they are chains around my beaten ankles

my sin is the floor beneath where I stand.

my wings were once whole, beautiful, unbroken things

but he held them too tightly

they crumbled in his hands

into dust