I am wretched, or so I believed. grace could not be found at the bottom of anything. So, I began to gather enough feathers to make some wings. I began to test them, try their strength. But you would soon give chase and tear at me. Tossing my pieces out to the wind.

Though bruised and battered, and broken in two, my heart kept pumping, but not for you. Patient, and hope filled, attempting to mend. I would try and try again, then one day.

I flew.

I heard your voice tangling in the wind like teeth, they tried to consume and gnaw at my pride, like the predator you are, you give chase when I fly. But the farther i flew, teeth turned velvet lips, and begged for my defeat. while tossing your daggered lies.

Battered and tired, I braced for descent. Then softly teasing, I caught the most fragrant scent, a single note quivering within a single stream. I pushed forward into its petaled fingers. Its hope for green things, tangent, as it pressed against my skin.

I landed, toes sinking into a firmament steady and sweet. You were long gone, tail tucked in and seeking new ground. A familiar wind greeted me, coiling round my exhausted frame, placing my tossed pieces back into place.

I smiled, a smile that was my own. Finally. Knowing that now known feeling….I was never wretched. My wings not needed, detached in the breeze. I snatched up the feathers that danced in the wind, and changed those feathered wings, into a feathered crown.

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