Her Wings Are Heavy

We are all searching for our angels,
to reach out and hold our hands,
to carry us over the broken glass
and nurse the wounds in our souls.
We are all looking for that beauty
to illuminate the silver lining,
to expose the wick beneath the bark.
But our angels are made of stone,
their hands are cold and their wings are heavy.
They aren’t here to save us,
but to taunt us, to remind us
That we will never have what they had
and to keep us looking for what
we will never find.

Visual by Martha
Words by Lisa