Birdman

Three walked home.

Two broke in.

One got out;

Not them, me.

With blood,

With flesh,

With a broken heart.

With tears,

With scars,

With a broken heart.

There goes my life.

Walking this earth all by myself,

My muse is gone, melt,

My dagger in red dye of its virginity,

My figure shrinking in fragility.

Trembles. Two stabs, done.

Can’t be undone.

The wrath, quenched,

Now a supernova of grief.

Her body in my arm,

Her body in my other.

I’ve seen her in bed,

I’ve seen her in cradle.

A pigeon came,

Then another.

Kissed them on the cheek,

Heard one call me “daddy”.

Days slug behind bars,

My dearest, 20 galaxies apart.

Got you on my skin,

Carved, inch by inch.

Still, you visit me,

At the square,

In the park.

I say “charge!”

See hundreds of your shadow,

Surround me, peck me, kiss me,

In the park.

So I shout again and again,

And again and again and again,

And again,

And again, and again, and again,

Knowing you would come.