Dying songbird

Please don't leave me, you dying songbird.

Your song is still beautiful, no matter the notes, no matter the order
Please don't leave your rusting cage via shoebox, friend.
Try not to leave this big world behind just yet, you dying songbird.

I love you deeply.
Don't leave, you dying songbird.
I love you strongly.

At night, I don't whisper the thoughts I have about you, you dying songbird.
If I whispered them, they would weigh me down until water flowed from my eyes unbidden.

Sing when others ask them, eat their food, drink their water, flap their wings a few times as they
Stand on their perch, waiting for nothing to do something.

You are a dying songbird, and I cannot ask you to stay in this rusting cage.
Please don't leave your rusting cage via shoebox, my friend.
Please don't leave this big world behind, you dying songbird.

I heard from dull brown and clunky birds that you dried to fit into a shoebox.

I can't hear your song.
Don't leave, you dying songbird.
You will shine in, with, soaked and basking and basked in love.

Please don't leave me.

It's okay not to be okay.