She Follows the Birds to Freedom

How to Make Stars Out of Rubbish

She stares at the bin full of the crumpled papers she tossed in,
The failed letters and broken poems
that never seems to make any sense,
she stared at them for hours wondering how her life has come to be defined by a bin
full of paper and words that
she could not rely on.
She wished that it were different,
that the she had words to say and write,
there were so many letters to send
and wrongs to right
and she didn't know where to begin
or how to explain to him what was going through her mind.
In the end, every beginning of a word was all wrong and nothing seemed to fit onto the page; it was all jumbled mess and blurred ink,
that was what she felt like half the time,
just a jumbled mess of blurred ink
where one could not make out
the lines to read between
or the letters that hid
among the seams of thought.
She supposed that her message
in all of that mess was that
she was too sad to write anything good,
her tears always found a way to ruin what could have been a start at something better. Those letters were her attempt
at starting over, and letting go,
and finding new stars to collect
and skies to master,
but it was not to be it seemed,
because here she was
staring at the remnants of her life
piled high in rubbish.
Frustration and anger take over
and in one hazy moment she grabs the bin
and heaves it into the air,
and something strange happens.
As she stares upward,
following the trajectory of paper
and ink and random trash,
the darkness of the ceiling is illuminated.
And for that small moment of time
she has created a sky full of mistakes,
a glimmering canvas made of all her failures, and they fly.
In that moment she feels free
because her problems are up there
and gravity is of little consequence with nothing to hold you down.
And a thought flashes through her minds eye, an idea that maybe this is
what the sky is made of,
the mistakes of the sun and moon,
the failures of the wind and sea,
the accumulated defeats of the millions
of people here.
This is what the stars are.
A mass of jumbled wrong made right in a sky full of beauty.
She could breathe a little easier now, with the knowledge that she could make her own beautiful sky here,
and be sure that in turn she would shine
like her beautiful mistakes.
SK

A/N: I'm not sure I like this one but tell me what you think.