Birdbrain

Welcome to my mind. My blessing and my curse, my best and my worst.
This is where the true me hides from you.
It is an aviary of birds diverse, a passionately adverse colourful verse to the dark hearted dead.
They chatter, squawk and swarm through my head.
Snatching under formed, fetalesque thoughts before they’re words to be said.
Before they’re comprehendable feelings rather than language that can’t be read.
The starlings swarm the most.
I am the starlings host.
They pull me apart by the threads of my characteral flaws
Unravel and leave me next to nothing, as nothing’s easier to ignore.
The Phoenix comes in my darkest moments. Eternal, internal, the starling’s opponent
Always almost too late to save my state from a fate that dilapidates all redeeming traits.
Before I am unsalvageable.
I’m simply unmanageable.
A tangible, consumable, notion of all that is unvaluable

The crows collect my bones.
They are the stones that condone any faith I seem to own.
The Magpies steal my eyes, my teeth, my wishes and beliefs
And they set to work reconstructing me in all my concepts
Building narrow, marrow bridges connecting the fleshy islands of my facets.
Creating a new world in which my tenacious conscious can reside.
Where birds of paradise bask in warm sunshine
Where toucans and puffins smile through painted faces sublime and glorious peacocks dare to flash uncompromising exquisity
I love each and every one who ever was and who will ever be.
And everything is beautiful
I inhale hatred and exhale goodwill
If only I could stay here without fear of self sabotage
But my entourage of starlings will return in a few days, to begin the process of self dismantling again
There’s no one I can blame. I have a mind I cannot tame.
A barrage of disdain.
A fear and sense of shame
If only I’d escape the cage that is my birdbrain.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Birdbrain

    1. Thank you! It’s nice to realise something that makes you feel so isolated is experienced by others. Obviously it’s not a nice thing for anyone to go through, but I’ve come to accept it as part of my mental process, much like a snake sheds it’s skin.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s