All that I had left of my wings
Was a single, solitary feather,
Not enough to make me fly,
But enough to make me wish I could.
So,
Piece by piece,
I started to rebuild them,
With your words of hate as a start,
Your loathing next,
Your desire to see me fail last,
All of it feathers,
More made of my past,
Of everything that held me back,
Then,
As if my magic,
I could soar
