Lizzy Burnam 🐞

1.
Because even the birds have their language
and they use it without hesitation,
singing honest songs at pertinent moments every time: 
the cheer-up-cheerily of a Spring-struck robin,
the warning whistle of a red-winged blackbird, sharp as a tea kettle,
and the rich baritone of a barred owl
when you enter his swamp,
who-cooks-for-you-who-cooks-for-you-all.  

2.
Because I’m never the only one sick-sad 
under the full yellow moon, 
waiting for good news or any news at all, 
and solitude is a familiar friend to all of those
who’ve known the greyscale come-down 
after howling at the evening’s technicolor sky. 

3.
Because the suicides and their therapists 
and their wanna-be-therapist ‘mom friends’
all attend the same parties 
adrift in separate seas of smoke and music and never meeting:
one on the couch staring blankly into the barrel of the bong,
one in front of the DJ booth, deaf with ecstasy,
and one outside,
sitting on the curb with her head between her knees. 

4. 
Because everyone’s a behemoth 
in their own carefully-cultivated microcosms, 
gifting food and fortress to the wild beasts with the weakest roar, 
and even so are not immune to feeling small. 

5.
Because bad love isn’t better than none, 
and I’ve been more down-and-out than treading water, 
craving the bait so bad 
I forgot to feel the tugging ache of the hook in my cheek. 
This time, I’d rather die on the island,
cooked white like a washed-up fish under the sun’s glaring eye, 
than board that sinking ship again.