Astronaut Bird

Promises that roll of your tongue and fall from your lips only seem to lay broken at my feet.
Broken in my hands that can’t remember their own violence.
I am an instrument without a tuner
I cannot control the sounds that escape my mouth as I cry in horror at what we’ve become
We’ve become shouting matches and broken tiles
We’ve become obsessions and justifications.
We’ve become crazy.
I’ve become crazy
A wild ride it’s been
Stability our enemy.
Stability my enemy.
Stability your hope.
Irony of all ironies
Stabilizers cross my lips daily
To try and bring order to my chaotic mind that can’t seem to leave well enough alone.
It must be hard to live with crazy
With tears and shouts
With thoughts dripping with paranoia
I don’t know how you manage to manage me.
I hope you find a way to stabilize your fears of what will happen if I don’t find a way to talk myself down from the ledge I’ve put myself on.
It’s hard to build a foundation with someone who never seems to sit still,
Unless crying in bed for the fourth day in a row, where no number of I love you’s are ever enough to lift spirits that will somehow fly the next day so high you can’t reach them anymore.
I am a bird with a wing that keeps breaking because I fly well above the sky.
I’m an astronaut bird who wants to reach the moon, but thinks she must jump from a window.
I’m the crazy and the earthquake in our happy home, and I don’t know how to make the shaking stop.


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