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A part of me posed.
A part of me afraid.
The only light in a lifeboat,
with a broken wing scared I won’t ever feel the sky.
A crow in the cold, not so pretty,
not so nice, not the most immediate rescue need.
A part of me anyone?
A part of me wishes you’d see me…
and say, “That’s where you’ve been, I’ve been looking for you.”
A part of me knows the truth.
A part of me would rather die by the answer
than live with the question.
A part of me living between the way things are and the way I want them to be.
A part of me trusts someone in the universe to feel the same.
A part of me thinks this is just my denial trying to keep me sane.
Just a crow-
cities must miss me, telephone lines not notice the weight of my perch?
A part of me knows I have lost my finest skill,
as they say, ‘as the crow flies,”
a part of me distant
a part of me always knowing I could leave.
the devastation of having a broken wing.
A part of me meeting the stars with my eyes
telling them how much I miss our mutual smiles as we pass by.
A part of me feels far from everything.
All of me knows I’m not. I am outside your porch, right outside your door.
All of me just wishes you’d have the heart to pick me up and
hold me, even if it means,
my last breath would be spent
cradled in your warm hands.

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