Ignore The Birds

I ignore you on principle.

.

I've ignored the chittering sounds you make

On Saturday mornings when I'd rather

Be tucked in a warm, safe bed

Pretending that there is nothing to do.

.

I've ignored the wasp sting of your opinion,

Quick to pierce my skin

And even quicker to fill me full of venom

That will swell and ache and last.

.

I've ignored the rolling receipts of grievances

Flowing from your lips with the hope that one

Will stick to my ribs and put my heart

Out of business for the year.

.

I ignore you on principle

Now because to do anything else would be

An act of self-sabotage equivalent

To cutting my own brake lines.

.

There are birds, raptors screeching in the trees,

Threatening to dive down and pluck

The last bits of my sanity right out of my skull

And feast.

.

So I ignore them too.

I ignore the violence of the birds dreaming

Of ripping me apart, flesh from bone,

Ambition from ability.

.

I ignore them to dance in the leaves,

Twirl with the wind and cyclonic vortices

Of red and orange and yellow and brown.

.

I ignore the screeching cries

To preserve my humanity.

I ignore the raptors as easily as the sparrows

And dance barefoot in the spread of wet leaves.

.

I dance to keep my ignorance,

Because it is bliss to be unlettered in the ways

Of a world so insistent on sinking its hooked beak

Into me and my little dreams.