The parrot has 3 billion neurons in its brain
We have 86 billion
And most of mine are busy
forming unhelpful pathways
Misleading my good intentions.
Still, 3 billion neurons
seems like enough room for a few
unruly pathways


The parrot can repeat phrases
Which we thought to be
pretty cool
So we trapped him
and put him in a cage
And in our living rooms
Alone


The parrot knows how to survive happily
Within his world
Within his world, with 30 others of his kind
And a partner for life.
In his world
he would fly with his flock
To trees to pick fresh fruit
Now he perches on his own
And picks dry fruit out of a bowl.
In his world
he would prune his partners feathers
He would look after her
And she him
Now he perches on his own
And prunes his feathers
until there are none left.


Its an unhelpful neuro pathway, you see?
Some form of OCD?
Maybe its a way to cope?
Maybe its the brain spiralling
Trying to figure out what to do
Because it can't be a parrot anymore
It has to learn to be a toy
A talking point
And the parrot doesn't know how to be that
He only knows how to be a parrot

I do not have much
Of your arms, or legs
Or fingers,
Enclosed,
Or opened wide
I do not have much of your naked eyes
Pooling wet around the green,
Specked with golden fireflies
I have not many of your lines,
Remembered well
Much less memorized
Much better
Is every word you tried
To skip across to me
A smooth stone from the lakeside
So that maybe
I could see the signs,
Come to know your heart
In my own way,
On my own time
Once I settled in with the crickets
To play the flute in our goodbye,
The saddest melody,
My only lullaby

Anti- anti- social I cry,
Don’t even try,
Scream my nights by

I am ******.
But aren't we all?
Please, someone, tell me we all are simply ******

Where did it first begin?
I haven't the faintest idea
but I feel if I were to own my fuckedness
my life would have some colour