Photo credit: unknown
“This was something she would keep hidden within herself, maybe in place of the knot of pain and anger she had been carrying under her breastbone…a security blanket, an ace up her sleeve. She might never use it, but she would always feel its presence like a swelling secret stone, and that way when she let go of the rage, she would not feel nearly as empty.” ― Jodi Picoult, Mercy
Anger
Blood
Bruises
Cuts
Scrapes
Tears
Raven Haired Beauty
Broken Heart
Broken Wings
Shoes on Point
Broken Smile
She stands on her own
She extends her arms
And her beautiful legs
She smiles
Feels the music in her soul
No need to hear it
She doesn’t need anyone to help her dance
She stands on point
Fingers brush through her raven hair
She holds her delicate arms above her head
And does a perfect Chaînés
In that first turn, she lets go
And knows that she does not need him to hold her up anymore
She is free
To dance, to feel, to live
There’s no need for wings for her to fly
That’s quite beautiful. It felt like being picked up and elevated. I love the way you ended it too…
“There’s no need for wings for her to fly”
What did I do to find such a wonderful group of writers to call home?
Honey, you’re the one that gave me the picture. It inspired me. I’m glad you’re here. I love your stories. And really there is no need for wings for us to fly. Thanks my dear.
Lovely!
Thanks my darlin’. Thanks.
Beautiful and inspiring.
Thanks darlin’. That’s what I was hoping for.
Your posts always pull all these feelngs and yearning from me… beautiful.
Honey that’s kinda what I’m going for. Thank you for the kind compliment. I love you for it.
perfect!
Thank you, thank you, thank you. 😉