She threw the bottle at his head
Quick reflexes stopped it dead
Shattered glass and broken dreams
This other self, breaking the seams
Coming forward with a vengeance
Always pushing, shoving resemblance
This wants a voice, to be finally heard
Tired of being this flightless bird
Crawling through the gaping skin
Breathing fresh air, it finally wins
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from MyKayla Crossley and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶5 days ago in Petlife
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.