• anguisette 130w

    I shed my wings,
    and a hurricane
    on the other side of the world
    is killed before it's born.
    The people sleep a sleep
    that only ignorance may permit.
    But what of me?
    What is a butterfly
    without her wings?
    You ask me to make a sacrifice.
    But is the erasure of an identity
    lesser than the erasure of a life?
    When you die, you die human.
    But what do you call me now?
    I'm someone without a name.
    An anomaly incompatible with life
    and yet, I live.
    I try to find who I am
    stripped of the identity
    I was given,
    stripped of the destiny
    I'd clawed towards
    all my life.
    My uniqueness attracts
    researchers, collectors.
    They offer to make my life easier.
    They offer me materiality.
    They do not see,
    I left that behind when
    I surrendered my wings.
    I do not want your touch.
    I do not want your glance.
    I do not expect your love,
    for you will not receive it back
    the way you left it.
    I only offer you my
    wingless vision,
    take it or leave it.
    There is a flight greater
    than wings can know.
    In every flutter of my mind
    is a dancing beam of light.
    Clouds fall into the sea
    and melt into rainbows,
    the trails in the woods
    trip upon each other
    and confuse their travellers.
    Pebbles shiver to the tune
    of dead dragons and
    their vibrations pull stars
    out of their slumber.
    They speak their history
    to the soil wherein I lie,
    wherein I listen.
    There is a flight greater
    than wings can know,
    and I'm almost at its edge.

    Read More