My wings aren’t—actually—small and maimed
In fact they are strong
Huge
Not white, not fluffy, no soft down
Razor sharp edges
I am no angel of softness
I am avenger
Deep down I am fire and brimstone
I am righteous by nature
Fallen
Risen
Back with vengeance
Tethering on the edge of self-righteousness
A dangerous edge
Always hoisting myself back
Someone had to point it out though
The flaws
I mean it was so clear
Remember Cain and Abel
It’s always the messenger
Always
The voice that gets bumped
But someone had to point out the flaw
One sacrifice as the other
No preference
I sigh deeply
All the pomp
I stop my thoughts there
Whatever
Not all equal in his eyes
I still haven’t found my sword
It fell too
Got lost
And now
I need to point out
Again
The flaw
Again
The preferential treatment
Again
Small acts
Big impact
My wings shiver with tension
Always the same damn story
Angel Lost
Published
Poetry by Nathalie 