When Wounds Learn to Fly
I run barefoot on sands that hold old tears
tiny waves pinch my toes—like a reminder of how I used to shrink
the sun sings a lullaby that mends the cracks in my throat
my heart settles over coffee, still beating with the echo of its break
The breeze brushes past—carrying the ghost of my sadness, but not holding it
my soul slips free from the shadowed corridors I walked alone
no longer a prisoner in a cage of silence, where secrets choked my words
I was once ill in this unstable world—but now I stand, unsteady but unbound
And I’m heard now—with a voice that still trembles from old laments
my life is poetry of nature: quiet as a wound healing, beautiful as a bird taking its first flight
uttering soliloquies to the sky—each word a bridge between the pain I knew, and the freedom I’ve found.
🌘✨ 12282025 ©Lan Zhan
L