I Used To Be Afraid Of Birds

I Used To Be Afraid Of Birds

I was scared of what you

might think of me

Running across the hallways

With my smirk and skirt

Pulled high.

I didn’t care if you were watching me.

Perched in the windows up above.

Your countless eyes

Staring down at me

Still

Planted

So my roots would never feel

The touch of the sun

No matter how hard I try

And so I stretch

To try and escape the

City of concrete

That surrounds

Our cold, dark tendrils

Searching for the touch

Or maybe just

Searching for a weed

Or worm just to feel...

We are moving but we are not

Portable

Classrooms we could

pick up and take with us.

Lessons we all learnt together that can be

Omniscient

Or

Minute.

That jungle gym

Made of wood

Big and brown and as soft as the trees that surround it.

We took our childhood friends

To recreate moments we cherished

On the slide we shared

Once

Worn away through love and

Appreciation over the years of us

Knowing that memory

But we opened the box

Filled with our memories

Only for that memory to be

Deleted

Gone

Replaced.

The familiar

Burns

Briefly

After my skin has already come loose

Underneath that heat...

The metal cools when

Undisturbed too much

By the sun or the moon

or the clouds or the sky

Familiar safe

Once again

And oh!

Joy!

But as soon as I start

Down

That

Memory

I feel it’s touch

Both greeting

And meeting

And leaving

My body

As I slide down that slide

And off into the deep end

I don’t want this memory.

This...

Bright

Red

Plastic

Forever

Coca Cola

Symbol

of what I thought was here...

I take the photograph.

Position ourselves in our memories.

Each take a copy.

We leave.

But there you are

Still.

Waiting for me to

Slide down

The first time

So you could see me

At my happiest

All the while knowing

I am destined

To fall

To my knees...

“Don’t feed the birds”

Why? I would ask

My mother and father.

Because you are

Deprived of giving love.

They sing

When they eat that

Cherry

Tomato

But no louder

When they’ve had the cherry

And then the hidden slug

Full and fat from the abundances’ of

Life.

Lying. Waiting. Needing...

Nothing more than the richness

of the soil...

But I am not full.

Like a

Princess

Calling to

You

To come and perch on my arm

To sing

For I too am a bird

dressed in blue

Who sees in this branch

a place to rest her weary wings

So that she may

Sing her loudest

As you sing yours.

I thought I was afraid of you

Watching me

For fear of you flying

Too close

To my face

Or the sun

Or too far away.

I hope you come back

I will try to promise

Your stares

Won’t haunt me

In the same way

They once did.