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Broken bird in jagged night.
I should not even look in
I want it, to be free, to be happy…The memories are like thick clouds before a rain. Somehow everything I’ve done has only been to make myself less real. That I could find a part, that I could play it well, that it would fit, almost, and no one would notice that it wasn’t the right fit unless they saw me in the perfect part…
I have fallen so far, a downward spiral, like an injured bird… I catch sight of your window, but cannot get in, again and again and again beating myself upon the pane that separates your goodness from my turmoil. I should not let you open the window, I should not fly in, or crawl in, or even look in. Your light has given me breath so many times, so many times… when do you get something wonderful that you deserve? I am not it. I am frayed and damaged, my threads coming lose one by one to drag behind me in the mud and in the rain and in the shadows where I live. Sometimes I come unraveled with such speed that there is no time to see where the threads have blown away to… maybe to another broken bird, maybe into the sea where the waves will drown them and hide them from you.
I cannot be put back together, this I have searched for again and again and know it to be true. Confronting my lacks, my deep gouges and holes.I don’t want you to see my frayed edges, for fear to taint your perfect form and texture. You who feels like silk to my hungry fingers as I search for some place I can lay my head on you. Appearing like a feast before me as I realize I have never eaten…sadly, you are too graceful, and the wind only caresses your skin, gently. There are no rain drops, or pelts of hail, or gusts, or shakes of thunder that you fear… no, no, no. It is only I who am afraid…. No shadows cling to you or whisper in your ears. No ghosts haunt your every step, causing you to fear a fall, another plummet into deepest swirling night. So I turn to leave your window now, jumping from your sill into the raging whirlwind of razor-sharp pain. This I will take, to leave you unharmed and happy. Even as I fall I fear it is too late, that somehow my shame and agony have touched you and with that one touch tainted your joy and your lightness of step. I would never forgive me, either, but long for your warmth each moment of every day. When I look behind me I still hope to see your smile, as though it would be a piece I could have taken with me...