Icarus Flies Away

The bird with the broken wing

will not thank you

for fixing it

other wing beating

as you bandage the wound

it pecks

and scratches

and shudders and flaps

plumage ruffled

it can’t see what you’ve fixed

only that you caused pain

The broken heart will not thank you

the shards you press together

pierce like bone into skin

pressing feathers back into

melted wax

burns fingers

and washing off sea spray

grinds salt crystals into cuts

The broken heart will not thank you

what seems like kindness to you

is pain to them

because old wounds can’t be healed

until they’re made new

When you let go of its wing

the bird hops away in reproach

the broken heart will not thank you

until it finds it can fly again

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