I see you there, sitting outside my window.

They don’t see you hop along and still.

They don’t notice you stare from the window sill,

Only when the screams echo from the widow,

They turn to gawk at my grief.

They move to stare at my sorrow.

I hear you fret about out in the cold.

I hear you sing your song, your voice bold.

I pity them, because they don’t experience you.

They pity me because I do.

They try to take you from me; try to water you down,

But don’t worry, I won’t let you drown.

How could I?

What am I without you?

Who could I be without my singing,

Screeching,

Screaming songbird  

On my window sill?

So much time has passed;

I don’t remember

A time where I looked out my window

And didn’t see your colors.

I could stare at them for days, your colors.

You make the world around us dim,

Growing brighter as my eyes glaze over.

I happily fall into your warm embrace,

Never knowing when I will fall 

A

  n

    d 

         

          f

             a

                 l

                     l 

 

​  And you won’t be there. 

I dance in your smell,

I breathe in your colors,

I let you take my pain and cold,

I accept the loving numbness I’m left with.

I sleep in your eyes, feeling safe at last.

I know this feeling will pass 

And 

The pain will come back, but for now

I sleep

I sleep

I sleep soundly in the safety of my songbird’s watchful eye

He sees everything,

My songbird.

From my window sill

He sees us all as we are

Truly,

Purely 

Sees us. 

He doesn’t like many of you,

But

He likes me, my songbird,

He does.

He sings to me, 

Crying out 

For me to join him

Fly with him

He wants to leave the window sill 

He wants to change his colors,

Blend his wings​

But he waits. 

He beckons to me,

Pleading for me to jump

What I don’t say is: 

I’m afraid

​I’m afraid

​I’m afraid that we’ll fly together and then

He’ll fly alone

And

His colors will change

And 

I won’t know him

And 

My days will stay nights

And

My nights won’t go away

So I stay by my window and watch you fret. 

One day, songbird.

We’ll stretch our wings.

One day, our colors will run freely into the sky.

One day, our songs will be screamed but not heard by a soul.

But for today, 

I watch and I listen

To my songbird

Contemplating when to join him 

In

     The

Sky​