birdsong and orange juice

Outside
For the first time in a week...

 

It was surreal to feel the wind
Lightly blow against your cheek
And amongst the trees...
Birdsong

 

Infected your ears
Music. Symphonies.

 

Hysteria
Caused a quarter of the world
To put themselves to sleep...
Hibernation. Dream.

 

Although there were more people
Outside today than you've seen.
Contemplating the birds sing
While standing two metres apart
From each other...

 

Sad sight. You caught the glance
Of a girl you swear you recognised...
She smiled for a split second almost
In greeting and then turned away...
It's a small world.

 

She reminded you of another girl
From the days you used to run
About in the golden sunlight,
Days adolescence was a concept
You didn't see coming, faster. Faster.

 

You kept in touch with this poor girl...
Purple. You were talking to her
Yesterday evening as you stared at
the black outside your window...

 

She claimed a star had appeared
In the night sky.
And

 

She said sometimes
Staring at the night sky
She'll indulge in throwing
Her problems into the stars
And watch them go by...

 

And she would look at stars
And solve her problems
Or watch them float away
In the clouds passing by...

 

If only it were that simple.
If only life was so simple
You could throw your thoughts
Into the stars and they would
Sort themselves out in front of
Your eyes...

 

Imagine being able
To stare at the stars all night
Without tears dropping
Down your cheek.

 

Stars make you cry you see.
Because there was a time
You talked about stars with
Blue eyes.

 

And now whenever
You see the stars
In the sky you remember
Blue eyes. Not the actual one,
The concept.

 

Because actual blue eyes
Infuriates you. Slow replies.
Hours on end waiting
For a single text
That normally reads
Cool x.

 

This girl who talked
About the stars with you
Yesterday night
Reminded you of nights
You spent with blue eyes...
Hours on end of text after text
Saying how beautiful the stars
Looked.

 

Irrelevant really.
Hours you're never getting back.
They just sit in your mind
And slowly extract cyanide
From the sweet almonds
You call memories.

 

Poisoning your brain like
Snakes snakes snakes...

 

Walk.
Back home.
Birdsong in that brain of yours
Since you can't hear it anymore.
You wanted to write verse
But decided now is not the time
Because you glanced at that girl
Who you knew briefly
In a memory from years ago.

 

 

You haven't even lived
Sixteen years of life and you
Feel it's gone on for too long
Already.

 

 

I wonder if the stars are the same
In france? Or are they more beautiful...

 

Orange juice.
You pour it down your throat...
Bittersweet.
That's life you think to yourself
as the birdsong emerges from
Your subconscious.

 

It's all you can hear now...
But its beauty is gone...
Now all you can hear is cries.
Agony. Pain. That's what's caused
When you spend too much time
Caressing the concept of pretty
Blue eyes...

 

I wonder if once hysteria is over
People will ask me how I spent
Days locked into my home
For the good of the country.

 

I'll reply:

 

I thought of blue eyes
As I walked through the woods...
Made me cry to think
I'd never talk about the stars in the sky
With her again.

 

I thought to myself
I wonder
If the stars looked the same
In the green fields of France...

 

And I listened to the birdsong
Infect my mind...

 

Birdsong and orange juice
Became my life...

 

Hysteria was rife...

 

I fell in love with a pair
Of blue eyes that never
Even existed...

 

Birdsong and orange juice
Infected my mind
Like almonds, alcohol and
Cyanide.

 

Like pretty blue eyes.

This poem is about: 
Me

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