I learnt today the emblem for one year: paper, bare and simple. It made me want to fill your letter box with little folded cranes, simple, to sing all the things that I could never accurately say. Do you even have a letter box? Imagine: instead of stumbling words I will bestow sweet songs, harmonized notes to extract the fear encasing my thoughts, attack the sinews wedged in between anger and affection, staining the boundaries, and woefully wind them into beautiful melodies so as to get the message across. I will let these aviary messengers spin the sounds into your ears, straight through to your centre to where you can truly take them in, and most of all, you will not ‘yes dear’, for there will be no one to reassure as you are enveloped by the chirping pleas, little paper wings making cuts as thin as hair, non-existent ears closed to your selfish self-preservation. I will let the words enchant you until it becomes simply unbearable, until the screech of broadsheet beaks entwine into a cacophony so unavoidable that you are surrounded by the unfettered reality of my newly loud emotions, consuming you as they have already done me. You will be deafened by the unexpected barrage of blame; and when I return, there will only be confetti, and we will start again.
More writing about myself and my silly little life. This was an attempt to step out of my usual weird style of poems that span a ridiculous amount of lines, and instead write a big block of text. I’m fairly happy with it now. I think the theme of the bird went ok and I don’t usually write pulling one thing all the way through so it’s not a bad start. Better than nothing