Literature
Morning lark
My heart is feathered scared Is breathing so difficult that you have to birth each one remembering the ins and outs? Heaving all that love out for no one to clasp Heave it. Out. The feathers preen the heart is shedding its feelings. Releases one wing then the other wing. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. One flap of wings, one crash of dreams. As you bleed out your heart gets lighter as you cry out your tears dry faster. In that bubble of remorse, sits a young child, alone. Punished, beaten up With a blanket inherited from God, it's old, it's clean, it's pristine. it smells of childhood comfort and sisterly hugs. It wraps the blanket tight, and what do you know, it turns into perfectly adapted wings. Ascending.