wordplayground

every part of me
wants to make this right
except one,
and this time around
i'm listening.

six years ago
i saw myself in these birds
scavenging
whining
moving on.

today i am this broken bird
damaged
silent
alone,
dragging a broken wing,
watching in disbelief
confusion
as the other birds move on.

you saw that broken wing
and i...
i never saw it coming.

i made my peace
with these breaks
i must carry,
and i will not be broken by you.

i drag my wing across the sand
moving on.

my wings torn off so that
i might never fly away and
miss another moment,
i would ground myself
out of necessity.

i would lose the ridiculous fantasy
that i might save the falling
after i couldn't catch
her.

prove that i am not any one
thing or moment.

torn to break my association
with the world where
i couldn't contain or
appropriately direct my anger.

i might live her life
four times over, but
i too would never fly.

wings torn off so that
i might believe 
i once had wings.

...i hate the world that made me into
nothing a child should ever be 
let alone the adult that later remains

my dreams are smashed underneath you
on the concrete
because the world should have been a better place
and the ground should have been pillows
because you had wings
but didn't fly