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.
it was bound to happen eventually
the death of a best friend
but now
now is a bad time
on hannukkah
what kind of a miracle is that?
now im miserable
It's December already
I've been alive for over thirteen years
over thirteen years of learning and growing
making mistakes and accomplishing feats
of finding myself and uncovering layers in not only myself
Your new-ish house
your dog sleeping on the rug
my family and your family chatting comfortably
your kitchen with your hot chocolate
the fun spinny stools at the kitchen island
that's one of my happy places
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