I gave until I could not,
Bled until it seemed it was all over,
Even then,
The hurricane inside of me continued,
Days like this it seems a bird has got stuck inside of my throat,
Struggling to get out,
Its feathers jostled inside my chest,
Although the only form of internal warmth,
Its cuts are severe,
Sometimes its claws get stuck on my lungs,
Clung so deep into the flesh,
I often wonder how words even leave my mouth,
Breathing becomes difficult,
Quenched of breath, constantly gasping,
To feel something, to believe that living is purposeful,
The other leg of claws directly clenched on the heart,
Internally wounded, winded, hole in chest,
Yearning,
to Fly.