Today i feel small, tiny and weak. A baby bird tissue soft, pink and delicate.
My skeletol interior is as good as liquid, dripping from my muscles and out my throat like vomit. Hot and acidic, melting my heart into an unrecognisable shape.
Hold me, enclose me in something thermal to cusion my heavy head, my neck is too weak to do so.
A nest of sorrow keeping my feathers warm one of which i built from scratch.
I hope my wings fully form and take me somewhere pleasant,
i'd give anything to fly away
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