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Broken Wings

I split my ribs open, only to

spill a million

black dahlias onto the floor.

not being swept away by the wind.

not being hidden beneath the

grass carpet.

nothing sparkled in gold today

it is all covered by spilled

water, clouded and gray.

the weight of torn petals

is still there, on my

tired lungs.

but I am a bird. wings broken.

the sky is out of reach.

my soul is everything.

broken, mended. sore,

numb. opened up my core

letting the wind reach in

and re-arrange my words.

born with torn wings.

frayed, like forgotten ribbons

of silk.

still wondering if flying






this is amazing. i added this to one of my favorites. very beautiful imagery. I especially love the opening lines "I split my ribs open, only to spill a million black dahlias onto the floor." I wish I could have written that! and i also love this line. "but I am a bird. wings broken.the sky is out of reach." this just brought pain in me. I could imagine myself being that bird, lonely, helpless, a creature that needs to be free and to fly but could not. and this line "my soul is everything.broken, mended. sore, numb. opened up my core." really amazing piece!