Pretty bird

You and I are only canaries. Blood-thirsty canaries. Adorable yellow chickadees Intent to rule the world. We sing flit hop Preen molt chirp Disguising plans to silence protesters. Disguising distress. Destructively simple. Canaries are cannibals. So really it's either you OR I. Pretty songs. That make people weep. And cherish our voices and fragile beauty My bones are empty. Feathers slicing breath. You were wonderfully breathy. Darkness silences a song. You look. I see your look.

Finding joy

There are hippies. Joyful hippies. There are Christans. Joyful Christians. There are hypocrites. Joyful hypocrites. There are technicians. Joyful technicians. They say that joy is not based on circumstance. But isn't Salvation a circumstance? Hhhhmm. The joy is returning. I may be confusing it with something else. All Ive wanted is to escape my circumstances. I'm on my way. Joy. I barely ask.