that feeling you get when something is overwhelmingly upsetting or joyful, and your heart feels like it’s flooding with blood for maybe the first time, each time that it happens.

I’ve been getting that feeling a lot in the past few days,
at first I had something of a bad reaction to it. 

Memories of molt, of feathers shed. He she or it died. 

So I let it come cautiously at first..
and then for a moment I embraced the rushing beat
of fists on the drum in my heart

Only to remember in a moment how hard that wave of blood can hit,
and I remember the molt that comes,
and feather etched gashes. 

So to slow the crash of waves and the beating of these quiet fists,
I’ll remember- 
to look at feather dug scars.