A delicate balance, strong and frail
Warm and shivering, held in the palm
Hands that cradle and try not to break
On the edge of destruction, a startling calm.
She has no wings that can be seen
But the hand and mind know they are there
She’s shivering to be set free
And to reclaim her sky and air.
And yet, the body doesn’t know
That she is meant to fly away
Weights her down with heavy rolls
Mismatched, so she has to stay.
She draws black lines to separate
The hand, the mind, the broken home
And bleeds away the give and take
Til finally she is left alone.
The wings, they long still to return
Her to the nest she built with care
But leaden, hot, the legs will burn
She melts in the reflection’s stare.