Wings of wood


Shoulders frail
Steadying a head with a mind breathing chaos and a pretty face
Not the world but brokenness she carries
It’s like I’m walking in the darkness and I can feel it like thick clouds as I seek my way through
Who am I?
Confusion clouding my eyes
I want to feel alive, find love true, find fulfillment for my thirsty heart.
But with my wings of wood, can I fly?

Picture by Christian Hopkins

5 Replies to “Wings of wood”

  1. Hopefully spring will arrive to fill those empty branches.

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