Mother's Wings

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My fluttering monarch wings aren’t a show of-


Rather a defect of being denied it,

Here again after I thought happiness found-


Your northeastern chill demeanor

An icicle that stabbed my heart and your weapon-


I’m still standing and like cupid with his arrow

I’m bleeding all of you.

I never said I wanted it to be easy hue

Of a dark blood red love.

XX Erin N. Buckley xx

#poetry #poem #love #devotion #romantic

◄ The Beast is Me

Talking to my Tummy ►


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