little bird

flapping in the wind
turnabout; don’t even try
flying’s for angels
and angels don’t have
a choked heart.
lipstick streaks across
parchments of psychedelic.
drawing you back to earth.

singing in the wind
voice alarm bells
to ears more used to sound
than music.
tune up, grow up
shower room fairytales
drown faster than water.

crawling in the wind
don’t rest, but don’t fly, sing.
don’t block the view,
interrupt the melody.

so the little bird,
goes crawling back to its cage.

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