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Broken Wings

The lights used to bear down on me.
They’d arrive upon my silenced face,
a speeding train at full force slammed
into the pit of my core.
My stomach emaciated like a starved, abandoned child
by the words that they had lashed at me like a whip
leaving me, skin flayed, flying aimlessly and bare
on dark, shrouded nights
cloaked by my own insecurities
searching for gleaming silver on dirt caked floor.
I dug through mud and dust
and let it crawl beneath my fingertips.

You saw my grimy secrets,
yet you cleansed me with your light.
It washed over me, shimmery sea of reveries.
You’d see me stand before you
arms outstretched to your pride.
You’d take me in your arms
and caress my broken wings.
My image would distort and blur
in your judgeless, doting eyes.
You latched onto my remnants
and gathered them like puzzle pieces
that somehow never fit together quite right.
But you loved that little gap
and the blush that tainted my skin from your gaze.
I was whole and healthy again
under your loving watch and in your comforting embrace,
a shine to the hair,
a gleam in the eye.
I’d laugh the never-ending rain away in your company
and the sound would carry on…

You touch your hand to the cold stone
and listen for my wind chime chortle,
but are only met by the frigid air.
Stretched across my granite bed
you are left to your hopeless dreams
wishing for dust to materialize
longing for my sparkling smile
and my warm hand in yours.
Big brother, please don’t cry.





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