So entangled

in the lies and whys

your wings were bound

so long ago

you cannot know

you even have them still…

Twisted now so tightly

paralyzed by time

and disappointments sinking

deep into the heart

that is so finely

shattered

as to almost seem

whole in its

destruction…

And now you whisper

softly screaming questions

into darkness where

no light can reach,

you beg the answer

to the question why the knife

that slashes harsh

into your back

and keeps you here

entombed inside what isn’t

real?

Only to learn

the pain is not to tell you

there is cause

for this despair unless

you now refuse

to free yourself, your wings,

your heart

from rusted wire

of self-deception,

razor barbs of unforgiven

judgments clawing

causing you to feel the knife

you think is there,

when the truth is you

have all the power yet

to kneel or fly

and this is why

you have

to soar

unless you wish your soul

to fly no more.

Shelly Aspenson