Soaring.

"Soaring" was her new word this week.
Every time the same two aged books were read,
"Soaring" would leave her pale lips.

A word at a time,
almost like steps.
She was on her way to recovery,
but there would be no top.

Birds were her main love,
along with music in the fall breeze.
It didn't seem long before that they had discovered her one reason to breathe.

They knew she knew the words,
could formulate the most complicated statements,
but her lips wouldn't let them out,
not until the rhythm passed her ears.

The first time they truly heard her, her voice was loud and clear.
Although these words weren't spoken,
the meaning was heard by every nearby ear.

Trapped in her own mind,
music was her escape.
They knew the one thing they could do to push her along,
and that was to let her breathe from those songs.