The Bird

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.