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3 weeks ago

Original Poem

Is this the first one I posted on here? I think so.

Content warning for swearing in case that bothers people.

Wings fade in and out.

Fluttering.

Shivering.

A knife could be pulled across the length

but they are made of no skin and bone. 

They do not bleed. 

Resilience has kept them intact. 

Maybe they are missing half

but they always remain attached. 

To It, in It's delusion, they remained whole. 

Until they completely broke.

It's eyes snapped open

How did It miss the signs?

Even when a breeze went through the missing chunks

or It's chest ached with every twitch of It's wings,

It could've sworn they had always been whole. 

So now It searches.

It just wants It's wings.

But fuck angelic beings

Your wings aren't coming back

All that's left are remnants of stone deep in the ground, and high in the sky. 

You may feel phantom wings like they never cracked

But It has no choice now but to see empty space

where fondness once was

whenever It looks behind It's back. 

And what's so wrong with that? 

Wings may not grow back

but what about the grass? 

So fuck angelic beings. 

Earth will be your fallen home. 


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