my wings were clipped
when I was born into this world.
my talons sharp
my voice intact
but my wings too short.
I’m so afraid
they’ll never grow back.
the more I read lately, the less I want to walk flat on my feet. I’ve always been more comfortable standing on the balls of my feet — that’s probably why I did ballet for so long. Donnie says it’s because I don’t belong on the ground. my shoulder blades ache a lot, and feel heavy once in a while. I’ve sang more.
they’re little things that keep me in tune with my soul in this human body this life.
I wanna be free.
- aisling (aidyn?)
D sent me a link to read about history today.
i felt Des’tai more than i have in ages.
i could feel who i am again.
i think i found my name.
you and i create our cinematic moments:
when we sit alone, cigarettes and blankets and the night sky,
you remind me of why i’m here.
you remind me why i hold on.
you scratch where my wings should be, and you kiss life back into me.
til may. til may. til may.
crawling into bed in the hopes that i will awake and you will be there, big blue eyes and flower petal lips, to kiss me good morning and hide us from the sun with the sheets for a few minutes more. crawling into bed, crawling right out of my skin, with your perfume on my wrist and your scent still lingering on my covers. there is magick in our energy together and when you are so far, it slips right away from me. i lose my power for a while when you go.
i don’t know yet when the next time i will see you will be, but until then, my love, i will miss you.
i’d like to do some notes on our history, soon. when we both have a moment to spare.
i’ve been very observant with people at work, people i meet, ever since i realized that my soul is nonhuman.
i’ve met quite a few different kinds of people, some of which don’t see what they are.
i’ve mentioned bear, whom no longer works with me. i work with a redheaded fox who’s quick and witty and ever so sweet. there’s a coyote — canine, so there was that initial unexplainable draw — who’s been tainted by humans to a terrible degree, and he’ll never see what i see in him. there’s a hummingbird that has been sitting under my wing for the past few weeks now. all people that i care for in a peculiar way. i can’t pinpoint it. i just get along with people with old souls, with something special about them, more than plain ol’ humans.
and i’m pretty sure i’ve met someone (else) i knew in a past life. i believe that he was some sort of brother or cousin… but he believes it too. “more than i should”.
just feeling a little observant tonight.
dance with all the trees for me in Scotland, won’t you? find some of our own and tell me tales of all you see. te amo.