A little bird
A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song. 💙
A little bird
A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song. 💙
She was free, wild, at peace. Moving from place to place as she pleased. It was a lifestyle she’d come to love, but she hadn’t always.
When she first set out alone, she was a skinless chicken, scared of her own shadow. A wimp.
Being in the wild changed her. It was a rapid transformation. In a year, she was unrecognizable....
Red scorching pain between thighs gone sore.
A broken girl’s crying echoing into the still night.
Pieces of her soul left behind bruises on the floor.
Escaping the monster, but never the fright....
Still alive—
Though my heart stopped beating.
Want to die—
But I keep on breathing....
It began as all bad days do:
A shrill alarm.
A pounding headache.
A heavy heart.
Eyes swollen from crying.
Dirty laundry strewn across the floor.
And not an ounce of care.
It all can wait.
The world can wait.
Rolling over in the bed,
I give in.
Just for today....