broken bikes

of birds

he feels her presence,

it pushes in on him from all sides,

he is suffocating

he sees her eyes,

hears her voice,

tastes her mouth

he knows she is there, somewhere

and yet,

but she is nowhere to be found

he feels the guilt,

writhing and rankling inside

it is choking him

her blood is on his hands,

staining them red,

but only he sees the color

he imagines her jumping,

her body hitting the ground,

landing in a heap

she must have screamed

she must have cried

she must have been afraid

her last words,

were nothing special,

nothing to remember

but they echo in his head,

bouncing from side to side,

pestering him

"birds can fly,"

and nothing else,

that was all

he mouths those words,

and he smiles,

she had always wanted to be a bird