Stephanie Bennett-Henry – Biding time
He rips me to shreds without even touching me and he knows, keeps a tight grasp on disregard like a knife he has used to cut me a hundred times before. But I sit here and remind myself that I bled out a long time ago. There is nothing left for him to take; the stains on his hands say so.
I hold my tongue silent like a bird that never learned to sing anyway, clench the song inside what’s left of my heart, sing as loud as I can, hoping my spirit will recognize my voice and come back home to me one day. And I know, I am only a wounded bird, winging it through this journey, searching for a reason to teach myself to fly again.
An ordinary bird would have long since crashed by now, but it’s written in the stars that I have never been…
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