I'm starting to sound like a broken record
Skipping through the only tongue I knew
As it tries but falls each time when they say
Speak
The words crawl up my throat
And into the attic of my mouth
Running to the tip of my tongue
Then stops
As if waiting for the signal from my brain
After a few minutes it decides to return
Back to the bottom of my lungs
Wait for my octaves to be heard
As I try each day but still my pitch is to low
So slowly she begins to fade there too
No octaves to be released
Only false notes in an attempt to find her
To find me
But she's been hitting her wings against the mason jar for far too long
That her wings ,her wings are to broken for even the dancer to fix
So she sits at the bottom of the jar
To tired to even try
Just waiting for them to fade because then she would have to
YOU ARE READING
Whispers To The Stars
PoesiaGone Five... Five seconds is all it takes Four... Four seconds is all I have Three... Three seconds to say you love me Two.... Two seconds to say goodbye One.... One second before I WAS
