Broken Angel

by

Lauren

Scratched old records play old songs from long ago.
Dirty dishes in the sink,
Trails of mud line the floor, leaving tracks to follow
Clothes ripped and torn,
Clinging to her body with the humidity
Yet, she shivers
His cold surrounds her
His arm embrace her bleeding ribs, hands grip her bleeding fingers
But she is alone_so she remembers

Outside the sun shines onto dust
Old jalopies parked out on the front lawn,
Or what is left of the yard
Some with missing doors, other without engines
They still work,
Her escape, her sanctuary
Torn leather seats,
Broken windows smeared in blood

Her feet, they take her places
Caked in dirt dried blood, they keep moving
Although she cries out in pain,
They will not listen.

Those wings upon her back
Give her flight from the pain
A single smile, and she’s flying
Above the clouds, into a milky heaven of stars
His love captures he breath
His perfection, his honor, his place in society
The sun, the moon, the stars would bow for him
She is but a sparrow in his world of eagles

The eagle denies his love
His hate, distrust sends her away
Heartbreakers never cry
Spiraling down to earth, dusty gray earth
Familiar old cars, rusty doors, engine parts scattered on the dusty ground.
Alone again_but oh how she loved him
Longing for his voice
No one left in this world but him, only him

She hears his words,
"Eagles belong with Eagles_
Sparrows belong with sparrows_"

Grey skies grow darker
Days grow longer
His light fades,
Her best friend walks away from outstretched palms
The love for him was the strongest he’ll ever know
Too high to see, to feel

Blackening tears, thickening blood
Her sins appear in the fog
Regularity turns to reality
Anger rages, but she is quiet
That invisible cloak envelopes her eyes
He will never look deep enough
His obligated feelings cloud her mind
"I love you, but I can’t stay_"
"Eagles are not supposed to love sparrows"
Listen to the crowd
The odds are one to a million
She lost him

A fallen angel with a broken wing,
Whose love proved far too less,
Who loves his truth
Bleeds for his heart
The eagle’s broken angel

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Honeymooners
by: Joyce Hemsley
from: Sunderland, England, UK

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