The inconvience of it all killed the bird. The stress I thought I felt, the new beginning that I longed for, the change i hoped for, killed the bird. Just as it was about to venture out for the first time, to spread it's wings, it was shot straight down. I thought it was all going to work out, that it would all make sense, but it just dug me a deeper hole. It made the little happiness i beheld, disappear in just two simple words. My heart contracted and stayed in the imencful pain, and i remembered what i gave up, just like a piece of paper, thrown in the water to float away the rememberence. That piece of paper was the only document that held memories only words could describe. I took that piece of paper out of the water, throwing the coin up to redeem myself, but all the words had changed, faultered into just little smudges. For it was too late when i put my gun down. The bird was already long gone.
To Little Too Late
June 11, 2010