alone, alone in a crowded room
i always had a feeling something was there-- not like a tumor, more like a devilish little bird, who refrains from my reach-- something so invisible yet so nauseatingly glaring red, strobing at times like that annoying light on those fire alarms that alert, "fire! fire!" and you run.
sometimes i think we're friends. yet when i, in and out of sleep, turn to embrace this Thing, i am reminded of how sinister it can be. and perhaps my shame comes from the people instead, but how could i not want to catch it, and gnaw at its bones the way it has mine?
when i ask them if it's there, they scurry off like a scolded dog. this shame, it's contagious. and this Fucking Bird is like a pair of shoes that somehow gets less broken in over time. when i address it, it echoes back. it mocks me and asks me if i would even know who i am without it. what a cruel thing, and even worse is that it wins with my answer!
© lj brooks
sometimes i think we're friends. yet when i, in and out of sleep, turn to embrace this Thing, i am reminded of how sinister it can be. and perhaps my shame comes from the people instead, but how could i not want to catch it, and gnaw at its bones the way it has mine?
when i ask them if it's there, they scurry off like a scolded dog. this shame, it's contagious. and this Fucking Bird is like a pair of shoes that somehow gets less broken in over time. when i address it, it echoes back. it mocks me and asks me if i would even know who i am without it. what a cruel thing, and even worse is that it wins with my answer!
© lj brooks