I see dark purple, painted nails picking at cuticles, peeling bits of skin away as if they are no more than little annoyances, rather than her perfection, and I wonder what she has to be anxious about. Her skin tears away from the fingers and she doesn’t even seem to notice she is bleeding, or that she is picking away parts of her that have never done any harm to her, nor anyone else. What does she have to be destraught over when she has her whole life ahead of her? She acts as if there’s no more time and she looks like her soul has crumpled to ash behind those eyes. Her eyes make me feel like I’m lost at sea, and it’s a welcome feeling. I love this broken bird in front of me, even if she hasn’t learnt to fly, just quite yet. I know she’ll get there one day, and I cannot wait for it, but I also dread the day she spreads her wings and learns she does not need me and flies away forever and a day. How do you say “I love you,” without it being a jail cell? Because, Unnamed, I love her, I truly do, but she’s still a flighty flightless bird, and she refuses to be caged by such sentiments, nor does she even believe their truth to begin with.
Her eyes dart around everywhere else but my own. I only want to see her smile, but she won’t. I think she is afraid to because, if she does, she leaves herself vulnerable to fall off the cliff of joy once more and break her fragile self on the rocky shore that does not know how to be forgiving or gentle. I think she knows this, and this is why she will not permit herself to love me back. She is afraid to break more than she already has, and I do not know how to tell her to trust the process and let herself freefall, how to tell her to trust me, how to tell her I will always catch her, and make her believe it. How do you save someone who is always just out of reach of your fingertips?
I tell her she is not alone, but she won’t listen to me; she only interrupts, and I think it is because she is so used to being alone and having no one to talk to, she is unaccustomed to having someone else to listen to that she forgets how to pause and breathe. I don’t think she always remembers how to breathe, honestly. She’s a flighty flightless bird and is always on the run from the world. I think she’s afraid to even appreciate the sky because she is worried she will fall into it and drown in its forever.
About the Creator
I’m a poet with sprinklings of fiction. I write with the soul, so I hope you find it interesting and relatable
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Original narrative & well developed characters
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
This was very deep and filled with emotions! Very beautiful written! Love your style!
This style is unique to me, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Well done
Beautifully heartfelt and I am in that position with some wonderful friends who cannot accept my support, so I will just wait for them to heal.
This is beautiful, yet so full of sorrow. Well done.
This is so beautiful.
she only needs to take that step, or first flight, nice story