i. i found a bird by the window the other day
shaking; feathers on the concrete
and i wanted to shatter
for this poor, broken thing
i wanted to love it better
with sheer force of will
i wanted to cradle it with shaking fingertips
and be best friends until the end
of our days
yeah, we’d hold hands in the hallways
and eat lunch by the steps
and he would need me more than anyone else
he would never leave, never run short
of messes to clean up
and problems to be helped
so i could bitch and moan about the mess on the floor
even as i held his hand and spilled the milk
i’d spin around in circles, i’d keep him on a leash
(it was never about the bird, and it was always about me)
ii. i found a bird by the window
and i tried my best to fix him, with clumsy fingers
and messy breaths,
i’m slamming my fists against the washing machine
‘cause who was i
to try to fix things i can’t control
like wheelchairs and blank eyes
i don’t cry when he dies a stranger
skin sagging on frail bones
when there is nothing left to do
i sink to the floor
and plant myself a garden of belladonna and oleander
but my shaking hands
can’t even make nightshade grow
iii. i found a bird by the window the other day
crouched beside him, felt his quivering wings and his racing heart
took a minute for him to recover
but he did; fluttered shaky wings and took off to the sky
with the dreams i’ll never chase
and the dust on my skin
with the ripped-up carpet
and the terror pulsing in my chest
i found a bird by the window the other day
and i cried as i watched it leave
‘cause it’s gonna be happy
it’s gonna be fine
and i’m gonna cry
i’m gonna spend this afternoon standing out in the rain