In Your Hands

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By bedazzled

Light flickers through the weaving smoke and I watch it bind the chains around me. The words scream against ignition, echo desperately through my head but the music in my heart overrides them. I know this broken bird shouldn't keep trying to fly. I should flit away to shelter, await convalescence, but there is no open window. I beat my shattered wings against your beating heart. But you just exhale again, let the smoke spiral towards me, morph into words that I have heard before. The poison permeates me again. Fractured and hopeless, I sit in your hands.

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March 16, 2009 01:22Tyler Cedric Golden

dam you have a lot of poems....lol...anyways havent heard from you in a while and i like this poem a lot you expressed in well....anyways check out some of my newest poems sometimes if you'd like....TYler

May 18, 2010 12:50Convalescence

This is so sad, but it's great work.