A bird sitting on a windowsill
Crowing weakly; needing nutrients
A loaf of bread three feet ahead
He needs it, his heart growling
His chest deteriorating
Please, some fruit!
I'm allergic to the wheat, that's the truth
I hope not to seem greedy
Or to seem rather rude
But I simply cannot consume
These grains
Please
A woman cannot hear the pleas
Only croaks and chirps
As she slices a piece of bread
For the bird starving for fruit
A crumb appears on the tip of a thumb
I will not open my mouth, miss
I cannot
I will die
Please
Please
A beak held open
By the force of a weak creature
Who cannot speak up to make the miss aware
Crumbs enter his mouth
Such a stale taste they bring
He can feel his heart swelling
His lungs collapsing
Everything brings him a shock of pain
As he crumbles to the ground
Too timid
Too afraid
To speak his mind
YOU ARE READING
phosphenes
PoetryA collection of poems about mental health, identity and love. TW AND CW FOR POSSIBLY TRIGGERING TOPICS.
