#on lessons

Honey I’m sorry that it’s gotta be this way. You cradled the robin in your hands and brushed your thumbs through its feathers red-soft and still warm, but no amount of marveling could unsnap that fragile neck. Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with dead things? You haven’t got a superstitious bone in your body, chatting up the black cats and waltzing with your self reflected ad infinitum in the starfall of your shattered bathroom mirror. Maybe you’re too forgiving. Maybe you don’t listen. Maybe you just never learn. And I hate to be the one to break your heart, but there’s no electric fence, no barbed wire, no cage that could keep me still for long. There’s never been a version of this story where I stay. Darling you may have gazed at that bird long enough to love something transient, something already dead, but there’s no Aesop there. Listen to me, fox-crow-snare-spendthrift, and let me impart my wisdom. Maybe it’ll tear your tender heart open but honey you gotta believe me when I say the most important thing to learn from life is -