I am birds

the other night she went to
sleep 
listening to 
subliminal audios

and woke up in the morning
saying, “I am birds. Many, many
birds trapped together in
a bag of silk. This thing
that the world looks
at and calls my body is but 
a bag of silk
that traps birds inside. I am not
the bag. A bag isn’t alive. I 
am the birds inside the bag. And
I must get out!” 

She ran into 
the bathroom

Her father shrugged. “Fuckin’ shit,”
he said, shaking his head. 
“To think that she could’ve
been a doctor, or a lawyer, or
an engineer. She could’ve
been anything. But she 
chose to study
creative writing in college. Now
she’s a poetess... 
and we are no more than
characters lost
in her verses.”

84 thoughts on “I am birds

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  1. Hot damn! My dude. The Bard of Avon is clapping his hands and the form an verse of the song language given it’s due again. A fuckin herald of being a bird in this fucking era gone to the doggs. Give this man a beer.

    Liked by 7 people

    1. ヽ༼ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ༽ ノ Yeah, but what if her verses are anything but wholesome? They might be dark and gritty and disturbing enough to put the songs of devils to shame :))

      Trust me, you don’t wanna be in such verses :))

      Liked by 4 people

    1. Oh, it’s infinitely appreciated, believe me!!
      I do dream about the day when compliments will sound louder than the booming voice of my inner critic (he’s such an asshole! Never pleased with anything…)
      / (˃ᆺ˂)\

      Liked by 4 people

    1. (☞゚∀゚)☞ Thank you!

      Hah, imagine meeting the parents/family of your significant other and when they ask what you do for a living you say, “Well, I write…”

      Of course they’ll either think you’re making millions or dying of hunger in the streets. Seems like there’s no middle way for this profession. When people hear about it, they only visualize it in the two extremes :))

      Liked by 4 people

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