the hawk
The old story of betrayal rears its head in the distance.
Even without my glasses I can see it coming.
There’s no mistaking it for a gentler bird.
“This is the last time”, she whispers.
I vomit the negativity and toxic thoughts.
It’s a purging of a piece of me.
I am alone in the dark.
Cleansing, washing it all away.
What is to become of me?
This cocoon is suffocating.
My lungs thirst for fresh air.
But I must wait.
It’s not time yet.
The rebirth will be magnificent though.
Worthiness, unworthiness, Worthiness, Unworthiness.
Who gives a fuck?