I Write Whatever Comes To Me

She has secrets she can not share.. wounds she'll never heal.. mysteries she wants desperately to reveal.. she learned from the beginning, that there are actions you simply can not take, and things you can not say. She watches him stumble and fall.. time and time again and wants nothing better than to help. But there is no helping without destroying what she wants to develope. Like a mother bird watching helplessly from high upon a tree branch, as the baby bird flutters on the ground in the grass. It must learn to fly.. it must strengthen it's wings if it is to survive. So she watches with a bittersweet pride and prays the coming night is kind. Oh how I've made a mess of things.. time after time.. wanting to be saved by a beauty I could never hope to understand or define. For to be a man.. to be the man a woman needs.. he has to constantly be better than even he thinks he can be.