Bluebird

A thousand suns rose and fell, and once the door was unlatched, I flew upon learning that my soft feathers cannot make a lyre bird in a foreign landscape speak his truth, so I followed the gusts of his erratic trade winds, and that was the end of that.
 
Freedom and closure is on the horizon, and you can’t change the pace of such when the sun shines a light upon the freckles that burst forth in the light of day, and nothing became everything until everything meant nothing.  
 
When you’re not happy, you seek happiness in moments that proffer awe, and nature is unforgiving in those seasonal moments that seem cyclic, and life is meant to be lived as opposed to being caged.  
 
Most people don’t tell you they’re unhappy, they just leave, not because they think you’re not worthy but because they know you’re unable to nourish them, in the way they need to be nourished.  
 
In such instances, it’s best to say nothing, and do your own thing.  
 
Explaining things to those who aren’t on the same page is an unnecessary act of violence, inflicted upon the heart & soul as the psyche tries to reconcile what-the-actual-fuck.  
 
Nothing.  
 
And that’s just it, there’s absolutely nothing to reconcile, nothing.