Birds and Bungee Cord

The birds are loud tonight,

they drown out the refrigerator hum

but battle the arcade of synapses firing

in my mind, which is doing a skydive

into oblivion.

I’ve decided I need to get better

at existing,

at being alone, because right now

I conquer my fear of being alone

outside, with the songbirds,

by remaining indoors, alone,

chained to the idea that change

will knock on the door

when it’s ready, when I’m ready

to take a spin in its convertible.

And let’s be honest,

all these images –

birds, bungee cord and fast cars

make little sense side by side,

much like the love I feel

when I taste your lips,

alongside the scab I pulled

from my jaw this morning

and my balancing act self worth;

juggling flaming torches

400 feet in the air on a tightrope

in stilettos.

Let’s face it, I’m going

to fall.

For you, for sunshine

peeking between curtains,

into a hot bath

and onto the mosaic floor

of my expectations and loneliness;

I’d spent days piecing together

since the last time

the cord snapped

and I gave myself whiplash.

 

But, I’m still breathing

and even though the birds

are loud tonight –

I’m glad I’m here to hear them,

in full red throat, ruffled glory.

 

 

© Kristiana Reed 2018

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