parakeet
We never touch anymore. Bodies that slammed together in hot, sweaty, raging, desire, lie next to each other cold and distant. Why do we keep on pretending? Half the world knows how terrible I am and the other half will explode soon enough. How is it that I care so much for him but want so much to escape? Why can’t I escape? Why do I lay here, my body aching, raging with desire without a single thought for the one that used to fill that need so well just inches away? Where did I go wrong? What happened to my life? It was so right. Maybe not perfect, but comfortable and happy enough. After thrity years I hate myself and even the word Hope turns my stomach into a roiling mess.
My mind wanders back to when I tried to free my parakeet. She wanted to be free and would fly away for a while, but always returned to her cage. I got angry with her and swore-“Just GO already”!
I understand her now, so I lie here in my gilded cage, waiting to finally be put out of my misery too.