Bird Girl

Wed, 05/23/2018 - 12:29 -- T.Cohen

A delicate balance, strong and frail

Warm and shivering, held in the palm

Hands that cradle and try not to break

On the edge of destruction, a startling calm.

She has no wings that can be seen

But the hand and mind know they are there

She’s shivering to be set free

And to reclaim her sky and air.

And yet, the body doesn’t know

That she is meant to fly away

Weights her down with heavy rolls

Mismatched, so she has to stay.

She draws black lines to separate

The hand, the mind, the broken home

And bleeds away the give and take

Til finally she is left alone.

The wings, they long still to return

Her to the nest she built with care

But leaden, hot, the legs will burn

She melts in the reflection’s stare.

This poem is about: 
Me

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