Time to fly the nest
Time to fly the nest poetryslam stories
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sharnawaller
sharnawallerJust a dog with a blog
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago

Time to fly the nest

by sharnawaller

Hell no I won’t let you sit there and cry. Look at me sweetheart, We were not given soft bodies so that we would never bruise. Your skin is supple for a reason.

You can mould yourself like playdough, like plastacine into any shape you like. You just might need a helping hand my little Raven.

I know you can feel constant burning behind your eyes where tears are begging to escape like I want to fulfil my potential but I think I peaked at getting out of bed.

I have felt the burn of the whips you set on yourself when you can’t stare at a computer screen for a second longer like I’ve only just opened my laptop but fuck it I can’t

like it’s a screen when there’s an essay on it but a comfort when the Netflix homepage flashes up.

I know how it is to be standing tall and suddenly be falling vertically, stomach scrunched up so tight it hurts

like I can’t even scream like everyone’s watching me like if life is a rollercoaster dear god I want to get off. Hell no I won’t watch by as you bully yourself into submission. Get up there.

I don’t care what your angels and demons say little Raven. You were made to fly. You were given claws to fight the world around you.

Humans were not given soft bodies so that sharp talons would bounce off. Protect yourself, my little love. One day, you will be the only one who can.

I speak the language of the devils in your head my darling like ‘why am I so fucking useless’ like ‘help me I’m drowning’ like ‘I deserve this’.

I have intimate relations with the numb expanse that started in your throat and has made its way to your belly like ‘will it ever go away’ like ‘will I ever get better’

like ‘am I even ill or am I making it up?’ like did you know that it is only possible for a human to live in the desert for 4 days without water

like I am parched and my world has suffered a solar flare. I can appreciate the emptiness that you sometimes feel like I need to stand on the edge of a cliff and scream until my voice abandons me

like I wish I could jump off the top of a building so that I can feel the exhilaration because to be honest feeling anything would be ecstasy to me right now like let’s DO ecstasy because why not

Hell no I will not let you believe this is forever my love. Our generation were cobbled together with pieces of one era merged with another.

Of course we can’t find our place, Of course we feel like we will never belong Of course we can’t look back without crying Of course we can’t look forward without hyperventilating Of course,

We are the midnight blue where the sunlight creeps into the inky black of night, We are the tiny layer of air between the bubble of oil and surrounding water,

We are a language that has never been heard except by those that speak it daily, We are a tribe hungry for our next hunt We are a form of voodoo that people will use in a thousand years

We are wholly new. We are a hybrid of compassion, and savagery and fortitude and a host of fancy swear words with perhaps a sprinkle of mental illness.

They want to study us, And we must humbly let them. But first we must study ourselves little Ravens.

We must spread our wings and notice the hundred colours in the oily blackness. We can name ones they have never even heard of.

We must take flight and teach the wind how to be gentle.

We must climb to the highest heights, and then go higher.

We are the future, my little treacle sponges,

We are their only hope.

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