the roses in you, the delicate petals of of being human, the thorns of us have broken the chains, our feathers glide when darkness once wished to down the soar of our wings, feathers glide from loud howls, floating up to the place we call as truth.
I sat at the edge
of the mountain I looked out at all the land A winged creature emerged from behind the clouds White feathered beauty, delivering a message from heaven. There would be no end to the pain and suffering that love on earth could cause me. Its talons grazed my papery skin, which ripped open so easily. I was bleeding out into the soil, as the vision of a beautiful bird slowly flapped its wings, and flew away.
God, please grant me wings
So I can fly up to heaven And kiss my father Goodnight So I can swerve through the clouds To get to my father Who waits for me in the glimmering light of the sun Let me wrap my trembling arms around him And wet the collar of his shirt With hot tears Allow me to scream And cry And whisper That I love him More than he could know Please, God, grant me wings Even just for the night So I can tell my father I'm going to be Alright.
my crooked wings cannot fly
wrapped in white linen their ridges rise like mountains their feathers are beautiful and soft like harp strings i will write letters inked with your name but these letters are for me and the birds that watch me in pity from the sky do you love me? will you hurt me? i have not been scared for a long time do you need fear to feel love? leave me lonely i cannot fly but you must please
Made my heart a rock,
trying to brake the camouflage you wore, trying to heal your wings, Fly was the dream And then you did. And I waited for you, you know, I was the one not flying anymore. And you left; when I needed you, You left
Written on November 17, 2021
every time I close my eyes,
my life beats behind my eyelids like the wings of a butterfly as questions form the rhythm of a song that constantly plays.
Under the blue cloudless sky White doves and pigeons Flap wings and fly Heritage domes, rustic brown Stand clear of dust and sand Glorious, withstanding every storm Motor boats painted blue and green Sharp the curvature, folded hands Bow to the rising waters in the sea Stillness of the silence Clearly felt in the sound of the flapping wings Broken leg, the bird could fly once