A Book of Mallycat504 (Why Didn't I Think of This Sooner!?!?)

For My Feather, To My Crutch

Words.

Painful.

Painless.

Meaningful.

Meaningless.

Words.

Lots and lots of words

Spilling from my mouth

Like a swarm of bees.

I cough and I cough

But they never run out.

I choke on my words

As they spew from my throat.

I hate them

And I love them.

As I hate and love

Myself.

It's not wrong to both

hate and love yourself.

Is it?

 My words have only done me good

Once.

Ever.

They found me a feather,

My feather

Fallen from the wing

Of a blue jay.

The jay told me to keep it,

It never did him any good.

So I treasured you, my feather,

I held onto you

And I never realized it,

But you held onto me, too

My words might have found you

But they have been nothing but cruel since

They were jealous of you

And I was jealous of you too.

I thought my words had poisoned you.

When you could have soared,

You instead sat by me.

Alone.

I have laid awake

For many sleepless nights.

Guilt nagging at my heart.

Why did you choose me

Over a life of freedom?

I have only brought you harm.

My words are cruel

My actions even more so

I hate myself 

For all, I've done to you

One night, asked you why.

Why you had stayed.

You simply looked to me and said,

"Your words have not poisoned me.

They have made me strong."

I had never noticed before

But you weren't just a feather.

You were strong.

You were a great oak.

Your branches clawing at the sky.

At your freedom.

You even showed the jay 

Who had abandoned you

Kindness with a home.

You were nothing but kind.

And I nothing but bitter and jealous

All this time.

You gave me one final gift before I left your side.

A part of you that I could always lean on.

A branch that I've depended on.

As you once did with me.

You were once weak.

A fallen feather

Of a vain jay.

He never saw your greatness.

But you claimed I did.

My words made you into an oak.

Not poisoned you.

And you made yourself into a crunch.

Out of one final kindness, 

I did not deserve.

So I thank you for that.

This is for my feather.

This is to my cruch.

This is for you.

And to you.

Yet my words will never do you justice.