yellow feathers


i feel

so so small

and just so inadequate,

like im supposed to be

something im not…

like preening,

or knowledgeable,

or brazen,

or brave…

and im none of those things.


people think

that im brave.

but im not.

ive only come out

of the flooded cave,

after the fire consumed

and the thieves have plundered

and the canaries died

and hell left no survivors…

but you see,

no one was supposed to see me emerge.

because im not anyone really,

just a fluke

with nothing to give

and no great reason

to have survived


at all.

and in truth,

i haven’t emerged

at all.

im still drowning here.

in burning




and duped.

that’s me.

About lifeofawillow
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