Ink Stained Soul…

She was wounded.
Her wings weak.
He offered crumbs in the form of connecting.
It wasn’t what she hoped for, but it was all that was given.
Slowly she gained strength.
From his temporary affection and illusion she matters.
His crumbs came and went. Sometimes more nurturing to fill in the months of starvation.
Setbacks and weight loss, signs of impending death.
She had to get back on her feet.
Gathering food; cold and alone.
She got stronger, no longer barely holding on.
The crumbs still came from time to time.
But she learned to soar she learned to provide.