Don’t give up
When the world
outside
is asking too
much
and everyone I
know
grows sharp teeth
and everything they
say
sounds like a
request for blood
I look inside
Take a walk across
my desert
Feel my feet fall
upon sand
that is dry and
cracked
Listen for the
rustling
of dying
leaves
Brush the tallest
weeds
against the
palms
of my outstretched
hands
When it seems
like
the stranger is
pushing
I wonder if
maybe
it is the friend
who is pulling
Who will not give
up
Will not let me
give up on myself
I play games
of hide and seek
I place bandaids of
pride
on my dodgeball
strawberries
and I pick myself
last
for kickball
every time
Not yet deciphered
The Magpie has a
bad reputation
for thievery and
deviance
but the truth is
they are curious
and misunderstood
Crows and Ravens
are labled
with omen and
mystery
but actually they
speak complex languages
not yet deciphered
with variations of accents, regions and species
Like a parrots
phrases
begging for
attention
and connection
Squawking
with obnoxious reitieration
we mimic the
separation we are shown
In the midst of our
instant replay disbelief
we loop the
recording on repeat
Polly want a cracker
Polly want to crack
Polly wants
and then cracks
Sometimes
Sometimes
Sometimes
we push ourselves to broken
before we allow ourselves to rest
in another’s arms
if we ever do at all
Sometimes we live
inside our shells
wrapped in our own
arms
never knowing the
difference
until we come to
the end of our life
and rot inside our egg
Sometimes we wiggle
the constriction
hairline fractures
appear
and we peer out
eyes pressed
against the openings
Blinded by the
light
wide-eyed
watching from the
inside
Sometimes we bust
and fumble
with clumsy
excitement
dance on
eggshells
fall to the
ground
and bounce hard
stretch our wings
and try again
Sometimes we figure out
how to slice through the thickness
how to slice through the thickness
that holds so much resistance
and for a moment we know
that falling
is not
the end
Sometimes
that falling
is not
the end
Sometimes