trauma
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Walked in circles colored with my blood. Dug a crimson rut. Clueless to the way the ground was lowering beneath me. Looking right,Looking left, Looking down, Looking up,All those birds, Flying above me. I wanted to be up there. At the time, I hadn’t noticed A door not far away, I’d been too busy begging…
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Taking flight never felt so hard.Looking down, my feathers were gone. I can see it now,The way they laughed at me Each time I’d jumped from caged windows trying to fly. Dad scooped me off the pavement again andshoved me back on stage,“Sing lizzybird, sing”I opened my beakAnd let out a scream.What a marvelous sound…
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Time spent hopping around, blood trickling out. Searching for feathers other may have dropped. If I found enough, I could jab them in my sides and make new wings of mine. Every fallen feather I found was just as blood as my own. I reached my resolve, and I’d have to figure out how to…
