Angel Pieces

I called to the sky
at every frame of this day.
It wasn’t easy
with broken wrists
and a shattered chest.
Poppies scatter
past a golden moon,
shifting me to the path
the crow flies—
and my eyes are open.
Brilliant lights
come into focus.
The rabbit reveals his head
nodding polity at my
and pulling my attention
back to the sun.
Too much blame
is placed on me
while the lost
take another drink.
But on each leaf settles
a testimony
And the wind declares
that I am free.
All the parts of me
lost to this world,
without reprieve,
are angel pieces
that I bleed.
A parting gift
I’m forced to leave.

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