The Bird

I think you’re terrified of being without people,

of that gut-renching feeling called loneliness.

It’s the curse of the creative one,

the constant feeling of being alone when you are surrounded by humanity.

When the people you care about are gone,

when you have to let go of someone who once held you to sleep every night,

your biggest fear is that you have no muse.

And yet the sadness is what fuels your inspiration.

It’s an unsolvable contradiction.

Maybe you’re the infuriating artist type,

the kind of person that makes people want to rip off your clothes and your head all at the same time.

Maybe you’re becoming one of those people who moves from person to person,

using them as a roadmap to guide your passion.

Is it wrong?

You’ll never really know.

It’s just who you are.

Maybe it’s because you spent so much time being your own person,

and you’re trying to make up for all of those years.

You’re a bird,

and you just want someone to be your hand,

to let you fly away as you please,

but always be there to catch you.


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