Little Bird Poetry

 Blood rushes  to my ears through my veins it runs from itself knuckles white now backed into my corner  no where else to go why do I raise  brass covered fists to fight the same monster who I know will always be there maybe one day it will disapear not ever again to be caught glimpse of from dark corners or bright downtown side walks why he lingers i'm never sure  the truly bad days I don't see him at all feeding into my fear  of where he may again appear haunting my steps as I go on how do I ever win a fight with a beast formed from the parts of me I never wanted to start with fighting him never gets easier and letting it go impossible

 Heavy feet dragging across dirty wooden floors as clutter minds run over the brim coffee overflows from chipped rims of half washed mugs being pulled from the sink that's been dripping for weeks a knock echoes through the space ignored as the rain continues to fall watching cars go by in the autumn afternoon hands brushing keys as it attempts to flow out yet nothing comes but memories tainted with grief  oozing from the screen with pain  simmering from beneath plucking a heart's strings only to create broken songs one that carries the same tune  day after day never ceasing in it's playing as the record skips and runs again deer run through the empty field  dew burdened grass bending beneath the delicate hooves careful as can be  as to not disturb the peace why so careful when the prey has no hunter except for the ones they choose to create from fear though nothing proves it was ever there such a delicate thing these deer skittish through they graze and roa...

 Time passes by in fading waves lake water brushing the shore  in a cold autumn rain  another cycle passing along as it always does nothing ever stays the same and that's the one thing we're sure of pieces never quite fitting from the places we take them from all broken puzzles  seemingly never having a larger picture just as we are moving along and never really reaching it a completion never really knowing what we want in the end is it better to remain how we are  or to try to be a person we haven't decided on yet