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 ordinary. I am simply resting, searching, learning, perfecting and embracing the extraordinary grace it takes to soar through my healing. It won’t be long before I spread my wings to watch the fight of my life evolve and bloom into flight of my life.
The sky calls my name in shades of blue and purple, I hear it as a song playing music only the brave dare to dance to. I see myself there. Dancing, smiling, flying, but stronger, with a whole heart that never once broke. It feels like me again. It feels like home. I am brave there, with no recollection of ever bleeding out.
I am lying in wait, soon to be flying as though the world never once carved me open with jagged teeth to show me just how heavy some pain is to carry.
Look for me soon when the sky turns blue and sings my name like purple shades of brave playing music that never uses silence to make a storm.