Poetry

By Myself

Sometimes when I’m by myself i cry.

I don’t know why the tears flow

more easily in the solitude of my own mind.

When I fly.

Alone.

They come.

My heart open wide.

Vulnerable to the memories,

pains,

and joys of my life.

Like a songbird that waits for the break

of dawn to open its throat and sing with everything it has,

quieting it’s music in the full light

I fight

the urge to burst,

seemingly with all the strength I have

and so much so

it hurts.

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