Thirst

There are wings beating away my breath
From the bottom of my simple being,
Taking all I am and all I hope to be,
Blurring those visions into a painful play
With tragedies and romance center stage.

My lungs have filled with breaths drowning
Me in expectations too heavy to shrug off,
As anxiety pours down, seeping into my veins
Like rain into the wise willow’s thirsty roots.

Left without assurance – or courage –
I wait to see if these branches will grow
Weary in silent sadness or dance in the beautiful breeze.

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