pretty bird.

A bird sat on a wire. 

Another sat beside it. 

“Hello.” said the second bird. 

The first bird had no reply.

“Hello,” said the second bird louder than before.

The first bird flew off.

She sat on a branch.

The second bird sat on the branch beside her.

“Why don’t you speak, pretty bird?” the second bird had asked the first. 

“You must have many stories to tell.”

The first bird looked at the leaves that had fallen on the branch on which they were perched. 

“Pretty bird, tell me this,” began the second bird. “Have you ever tried to speak.”

He stretched out his wings and flew in the summer wind that surrounded them both. 

“Have you ever told but a soul of your stories? Of your passings? Have you ever sang along with the flowers or with the trout that swim in the river?”

The first bird look bewildered.

But still was silent.

  “Speak to me, pretty bird. Tell me your troubles.” 

The first bird nodded her head in disagreement and just when she had thought that the second bird had  given up, she had head him sing.

The meadow was filled with music; the trees danced with the tune of the single bird’s melody. 

  “Now sing with me, pretty bird. 

    Let your voice be heard.”

life.

You’re life has always been a fairy tale. 

Your own creation in which the good and and bad are fabricated at your whim.

But now you realize that its not true.

You’re elaborate “Once Upon a Time” has always been but a mere “One Day”.

You’re extravagant “Happy Ever After” has been but a simple “The End”.

You come to find out you’re living in lies;

no, not that you're telling them,

or that someones telling you them.

But that you’re mind is creating them.

That you’re living in them. 

the bridge.

A girl walks across a broken bridge.

With terrible sanity to the right,

perfect chaos to the left

and nothingness below.

For years she avoids missing planks to stay above the nothingness.

She has spent ages on either side; struggling in the sanity or laughing in the chaos, 

for the vigorous wind has pushed her in either direction.

She’s met both friends and enemies on both sides, both begging her to stay.

Knowing she must remain on the bridge’s never-ending path, she ignores the constant voices; 

determined not to slip into the nothingness below. 

the man with the teeth.

A man began to open a can of beans with his teeth as large as a lion’s.

“Where did you get those teeth?” the girl asked the man.

“You see,” the man replied very carefully,  

“You get one wish.”

“I wished to be strong.” he continued. “To have something courageous, yet frightful. Something that would give me respect, yet terrify others.”

“But why?” asked the girl. “Wouldn’t you want others to like you? Wouldn’t you want others to be proud of who you are rather than afraid?”

“Oh, but aren’t you afraid?” the man questioned.

“No.” the girl replied.

“Then you are special.” 

The man leaned down and handed her a flower. 

“Take this flower. It is your wish. Use it wisely.”

And the man walked off.

a new life #3

As she had approached the house, she had noticed that it wasn’t as vacant as she thought it one was.

Someone had to had once lived there.

She had brushed that feeling off and had reassured herself that that was her new home and began unpacking her things.

Suddenly a man appeared from the kitchen. 

He had a gentle and oddly familiar ora about him. 

“You're early.” he had told her.

Thinking that she had never seen this man in her life, she began to argue.

Who was he to say whether or not she was on time?

And on time or what, anyway?

As she began to argue, she began to tilt her head to the left - as she always does. 

Then she stopped.

“Grandfather?” she asked.

The man suddenly whisked his head away and began repacking the girls’ things back into her knapsack. 

“You’re too early,” he repeated, “but when the time is right, we will be waiting for you here. Now you must go.”

The girl left, bewildered; her grandfather had passed away four years ago. 

But she had done what he had said. 

And continued running. 

a new life #2

And then she ran.

She ran as fast as her legs could take her. 

She ran for days. She ran for weeks.

Leaving her past behind.

When her mind had told her to stop, she had ignored it; she had to keep running. 

Keep searching. 

And then she found it.

On an edge of a cliff much like the one she had begun, sat a vacant house. 

Her heart had told her to stop. 

“I’m home.” she told herself. “I’m finally home.”

a new life.

She sat alone at the edge of a cliff.

Quietly. 

Thinking.

“I’m starting a new life.” she said to the cold air. “What do I do first?”

She stood and sighed. 

Then she jumped.