It's like I keep breaking over and over again. And I can't shake this feeling that I'm witnessing my own death. So many parts of me have been buried 6 feet down. So if you knew me then, you do not know me now.
The morning dew scatters over my wings. My throat is dry. I cannot sing. I can't quite clear it As I try to speak. My voice is raspy and weak. I want to sing at the top of my lungs Like no one is watching, like no one is listening. I try to sing and nothing… Continue reading stunnedBird