when even words had been stripped away
and i'd been left with nothing but my thoughts
that became a desperate scream
inside my head.
you had not killed me, even then
my hibernation encapsulated me,
that chrysalis shielding me from your storm
and my words, locked away inside
waiting for the day to emerge
to transform my sad form
with wings wet, slowly unfolding
painful growing
and now,
here i am
and i fly
--bruised orange
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