January 8, 2023
BIRDS I HEAR
Distance is both a blessing and a curse,
liberated from what you thought was yours.
Words are just words, but anger is a cage—
bullets to the dead is a fight you waste.
Tell me where do I stand when I don't know
how to grow and wander if I don't go?
I'm parting ways in peace without hatred
for the sake of our memories unsaid.
Now, I plant the flowers I wished you gave
while the birds spit aggression on my grave.
The hush of a ghost is what I know best
as colors are unveiled in my silence.
*
I hear what the birds are chirping about.
I'm the type of person who'll disappear after being drained, but I will still catch a bullet for you, I'd offer you my properties, and even drive miles for you. But at the end of the day, I still need my space.
Think about whatever good or bad reason your brain can muster, but this is who I am... Whatever you feel will be your cage or liberation so be careful and process your thoughts before you go spit on someone's grave, okay?
