I asked the bird
for its talons,
razor sharp, but
instead it gave me,
bony and strong,
a pair of wings.

It taught me how
to flap, swish, glide,
to soar up high,
to flutter about
anywhere I want.

Thanks, but you know,

I'd rather learn how
to claw out the eyes
of that boy who
carved my heart out,
and blinded me
with an empty smile.