I am the bird that everyone knows.
Never sees, only feels my presence.
Visible in your mind, noticeable in your heart.
My wingtips are dashed with anxiety,
my tail feathers streaked with frustration and loss.
On my back, I am speckled with distress and pressure,
unavoidable.
I am cursed;
you are cursed.
I am cursed to live with you,
with everyone.
You are cursed with my presence,
but you can adjust to let me fit
make room
even though I'm unappreciated.
I am here
no matter what.
No one died
right?
I wasn't affected
but I am affected.
I know them
their situation
we're good friends
but why is all of this happening in my lifetime?
In our lifetimes?
I find at night
I am haunted by thoughts.
Simpler things, like
Math assignment due tomorrow, can I finish it by then?
or
Did I really turn in the essay or not? I don't remember...
At school
we're doing a poetry unit.
"Oh cool, we write poetry all the time!"
My friend says.
What we didn't realize, though,
was that the teacher turned on the tap
to our inner selves
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