Song Bird

Song bird, did you hear,

The crack of bones on bones,

While you were gliding through the trees,

While you were spinning up a branch-

And landing in your nest with ease?

Song bird, did you feel

The fear soaked sweat, drenching skins of different shades,

Or the heavy weight of hate-

It’s burden all consuming,

Crushing those beneath it and snuffing out their light. 

Song bird, were you scared,

When innocent blood flooded the street?

When desperate gasps for air, for oxygen, for life, 

Were met with ignorant, cold resolve?

Song bird, was it easier-

To burrow deep within your nest,

And avert your eyes from this wrong? 

Or were you simply perched and waiting,

For the flock to swarm,

And echo back your song?

~N.B.

Not Alone

Photo by Kate Tandy on Unsplash

Sweet flower,

Why did you float away-

On crystal blue waters,

Where you sat and slowly swayed,

Below the dock, I perched and my toes dipped lightly

Forming a ripple, just one, then two, and three,

Circles that widened over crystal blue waters.

Perhaps, sweet flower, you’re going somewhere,

A journey, a mission, a path to follow-

And though my eyes grow moist and my lips may quiver,

I will not grow weak from the time we shared,

But your memories will spark when I need them the most.

And time is a sea monster, but never will I faulter

Because, sweet flower, I carry you with me,

But until I go and leave from this dock,

My clouded eyes will sit here and watch

As the golden sky sinks low unto the place where its from,

An orange hew bounces off the blue waters,

And you float away, towards the sun.

-N.B.

Broken Bird

 

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Photo by Julentto Photography on Unsplash

Broken bird,

Did you forget how to fly?

Did you lose yourself in the thorns of the nest that cradled you?

Did the memories of your first time, teetering too close to the edge,

Wake you in the night?

That leap was magical, it was the first time you knew,

That the endless sky was yours, and it’s wind would carry you.

Broken bird, you are not less,

Because the world stole a feather,

So sit with me a while and watch the orange sun sink low into the sky.

Close your eyes and feel the breeze, ruffling between your wings.

Let determination set into your tired eyes.

Broken bird, you are not alone.

Broken bird, tonight we fly.

-N.B.

Inside Voice

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 Photo by Eugenia Maximova on Unsplash

 

Who said I knew nothing,

Of the breeze that glides through trees.

Their leaves sing songs of grace,

Vibrating to and thro with ease.

Who said I cared not,

For the puffs of cloud that rain –

Tears of the sky –

Another heavy burden to be slain.

Like this voice inside my head,

Who whispers songs at night

Of Melodies to fear,

And sinful souls to smite.

One of which I am – selfish, dim, and vain.

“Who said I needed life?”

Demands the voice inside my head,

And I listen, all the same.

-N.B.

Enough is Enough

 

adrian-swancar-K5dSAeM0ycc-unsplashPhoto by Adrian Swancar on Unsplash

 

What hurts the most

Is not the unanswered questions,

It is not the circle I refuse to walk; round and round.

It is the sound of your voice,

When you said that I gave up hope.

It is the click of the phone,

When my words no longer served you. 

It is the fear that lingers, 

Knowing you will never follow me;

And you will never be free.

-N.B.

 

Unique

 

andrew-neel-KkCig7EbfoA-unsplashPhoto by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

 

 

There is a secret hidden deep,

Almost tangible, just out of reach-

My mind, always lost, always aching to remember.

Always mourning things forgotten,

Always bending over backwards to reach an understanding that yours does in a snap.

Oh, but that mind judges too quickly,

Reacts too harshly;

Never looks up to the sky to consider each and every hue.

I close my wild eyes and see the colors,

While all you see is blue.

Regardless of this circus,

I would never trade it to be you.

-N.B.

Forget

We must forget the bitter past.

Shaking in the wind

Wilting in the fire,

Ablaze, cuts sharp, fringed at the edges.

Jaded flower, rootless stem,

Hold you ground,

Hear the sound,

Of nothing but the splash-

Of cold water on scorched skin.

….

We must forget the bitter past.

Thirsty soil seeks the rain,

Blind petals pray for light.

Heavy clouds lay down your grief,

And thunder down the rain’s relief.

-N.B.

The Fool

 

What a fool I have been,

Playing victim to the torment in my head.

What a tool I have been,

Sharpening the edges of my own damning blade.

What sorrow I have felt,

When I am the maker of my own salty tears.

Today this ends.

What a seed I now am,

Burying myself deep in rich soil

Soon to rise again.

-N.B.

 

Photo by Gabriel Jimenez on Unsplash

 

Insecurity

 

timothy-eberly-2MSMhiycQuY-unsplashPhoto by Timothy Eberly on Unsplash

 

The sword was already there,

Of this, I made sure.

Primed and ready for the taking,

the stabbing,

the pain,

the end.

I am a cocooned butterfly,

And I will emerge once again.

…..

Not today, I tell her.

Today you can not have me.

Today you can not ravage me,

Like a glutton for my bones –

I shall deny you in hushed tones -no

– a single whispered line,

“Leave me be, insecurity.

Today you will not have me.

Today I am mine.”

-N.B.

 

Nevermore

Ensconce me in your warmth,

And wrap my skin in sweet joy.

Bite deep, like a leech-

Sucking away until every last drop-

Of loneliness excretes- from this desperate soul,

Before I sink too low.

Days of isolation sting sharp,

Like a fresh cut.

Raw, oozing blood,

Pooling at the seams of these poorly sewn stitches.

For which I am to blame-

For I am the seamstress,

Sewing tight my own demise.

And I am the surgeon-

Cutting out my hollowed eyes.

For they have done me a disservice,

And I no longer see the light.

Nevermore have I needed hope.

Nevermore have I needed sight.

-N.B.

Photo by: Kristina Tripkovic on Unsplash