Bird's Poems

Edward-Bella-Jacob? Thruple

Naruto-Sakura-Sasuke? Thruple

Peeta-Katniss-Gale? Thruple

We have forgotten what real space looks like

That hollowing we feel in our ribcages as we behold a mountain range

No, not the photograph of rocky waves colour-corrected to candy hues

Not the dizzying zip of drone footage blurring by too quick to induce nausea

What I mean is true grandiosity

The sort that triggered the animal brain of us buried beneath wrist watches and dollar bills

Its cries of winged creatures sailing so much higher than we could ever hope to dream

Reverberates into the souls of us

Calling us back into ourselves

As we stare further than our hearts can take

I’ll write for now

The last poem I’ll write

For the next little while

The last poem I’d post

At least on the daily

The last poem you’ll see

The last poem from me

This is a warning

This is also a release

This is me saying

I’ll stop bothering you, honey

You’ll stop getting notes

Telling you I’ve posted

Stop seeing updates

Of random new posits

I’m leaving you to your lives

As I move on with mine

I’ll leave it to luck

A pink dragon thumps their tail rhythmically in

Our basement

Steadily and loudly enough that

I know he's there

From the dragon breaths smoking up the stairs

Feel the floorboards warm under foot soles

The pink dragon and her baleful gaze

Follow me follow me follow me

I think about the pink dragon

Curious how

Sometimes our infatuations

Drain away

Enthusiasm and passion slipping like

So much sand between the fingers

As trends birthed and beget and discard and inflammates and invigorates and inculcates

The souls trapped in us

Ever accelerating to greater heights

Deeper plunges

Our lives have become roller coasters

From the second we log in

I feel vulnerable happy

Like the way my mom told me to guard against

Like I've handed you a telephone line to my chest

My throat tender from laughing and words too enthusiastic to be excused

I feel scared too

In that instinctive way people feel when they're lost

Or when they have something to lose

I worry I've given you so much of me that when you leave

I won't have enough left

I wonder if I'll finally make you uncomfortable

If I'll finally demand too much too fast

Gesture too abruptly

Repeat my stories once too many

Shout too loudly

Push too far or maybe too quickly

I wonder if you'll tell me

Or if we'll just drift apart

I also wonder if the concentrated affection I feel for you is reflected back in fractions

You know a lot more people than me

You like a lot more people than me

And I'll admit, that's part of why I was hesitant at first

To crack open my ribcage

And make room for you

I can only hold my breath and hope for us

I still sometimes feel like I'm not enough of a person for me

And there are still fragments of eggshells scattered about our footfalls

And whispers of words tucked away

But for now I trust you to be exactly what you appear

Delicate bright and delicate brilliant

One feels dull and muted

Must the feet be so slow and dragging

The arms half a beat behind

The eyes misted, darting blind

The perpetual uncertainty of whether we're conscious

Doggs the mind

There's the lavender smell again

Like febreeze

She skips down the yellow line

As great monstrosities of steel and glass

Whip her hair into a malestorm

The yellow line stretches no wider than a hands-span

And still she balances upon it

Her arms crossed tight over her, as though keeping her heart from leaping out of her chest

Her shoes, white-soled and dirty

Are you sick of me yet?

Because I'm sick of me

Sick to my stomach of pretend idiosyncrasies

Ill-at-ease with these little false sympathies

Are you sick of me yet?

Perhaps there's something to be said about narcissistic arrogance

Something quite boomingly loud about the concept

For it's a startingly bracing moment indeed

When one notices that they have fallen prey

When they have so willfully fallen in love

With false belief

It's humbling to find one's self at fault

It numbs the senses, plays into the holes of carefully maintained walls

Seeps inwards

It does

To awaken to a world where strangers have stopped glancing your way

Well

There it is again

I had thought tossing it over a bridge

Would be enough to loosen the pressure around my collar

I presumed it vanquished

Never again can it darken my doorstep

I had thought

When I etched the promise of it over my heart

I had thought tattoos more permanent

Yet the whisper of that I had

Thrown over the bridge

Torn to pieces and fed to magpies

Captivating, in the sense that a bear trap closed over the knees

In the sense that struggle only makes one bleed

In the sense that her irises swallow you whole

It trickles like a bad dream

Gathers at Buddha's palms and nail beds

Something about movement, something about slow steps

In the sense that one can never know themselves

Sometimes you can hear the world breathe

A great sigh that stirs tree roots

Hear faint inhales in empty corridors

Exhales caught between click of closing locks

Listen as the world draws a breath

Deep into her core

Holds for a millennia

Keep those eyes closed, honey

Keep 'em shut tight and sprint, honey

Keep running, run faster, run better

Don't stop, honey

Whatever you do, don't stop honey

Lean your weight forward, forward

Pump your arms like flying

Air caught in the bellows of your lungs

Reverberations

Steady, steady

Keep going, honey

Green skies and blue leaves

With little teeth like a zipper's

Cosmetically pink suns

Oceans of pale lilac

Toothbrush bristles on hair brushes

Hair brush teeth on paint brushes

Paint brush hairs in your mouth

Stuck between the

Words you keep tucked under your tongue

Tucked away because it's not interesting enough

Not different enough to be worth

The breath it would take to speak it

Too compatible with conventional common sense

With

Happy straight marriages

With

Proper sleep schedules

With

Careers after college

With

Look

As someone who can only speak for herself

I am not very special at all