To Be a Bird

It was a dreary night when it had happened,
I was craving the sweet release of death,
And I'd been wanting it for a long time.
I had grabbed the red and blue pills,
Gazing at them with true desperation in my eyes,
Should I,
Or should I not?
And then they had come,
Age unknown and a wisdom so deafening,
It shook me to my very core.
They asked me,
‘What would you do to be a bird?’
Free and ignorant of the dangerous world,
Accepting of the consequences of free life,
No society keeping them barred from the world.
I'd listened to them with fear,
Eyes glistening with awed tears.
And I'd agreed.
Suddenly, pain shook my frail body,
Wings erupting from my pale shoulder blades.
My bones shrunk and twisted,
And I fell to the dry autumn ground,
Erupting from me was a scream so guttural,
My mother's bones trembled in her forgotten grave.
My skin shriveled,
Midnight black feathers,
Soft and silky,
They ruptured my bloodied body.
And finally,
From a pathetic human being,
A majestic raven was now in their place.
And as human thought had left my mind,
I was replaced with something else,
The animal craving for freedom and survival.
And at last,
The bird of death fled the scene,
Leaving society's hate on the cracked stones,
Ready to sail the chaotic winds of life,
I was free.

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