skeleton wingsat night when i close my eyes, i dream of blue skies and wind and forget that gravity exists. and my shoulder blades tremble and i smile, thinking maybe my wings have come back. but instead of the softness of feathers, there are sharp daggered edges that cut my finger tips when i touch them and they're black and broken. i tell myself, 'these wings will never fly.'skeleton wings
and i go back to sleep.
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i remember those grey eyes that remind me of broken glass and how it looked like a perfect sky when it met sunlight. and i remember how he used to tell me, 'if only, if only.' and he would tell me what he dreamt of that nigh
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Clairabel - preparing for the zombie apocalypse since 2001
"I've already spiked your drink, so either way I'm going to fuck you."
Proud member of #theWrittenRevolution
Haiku Tuesdays!
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make a map of what you see; direct pain effectively.
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Images contaminate us like viruses.
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