narcissistic abuse

I am a learning-thing.  Unpetaling flowers in late spring. Breaking my beak open for a love that isn’t coming.  Drunk on the greedy need. Cawing nightlong into the blue-black hollow of absence. Sipping on the scarlet azaleas. Pulling twine from the floorboards of fusty rooms left to dust.  Moon-faced on wishing. Your magpie-eyes only gaze wantingly at bursts of… Read more