Within my body is a bird's perch
and you've gone and fluttered your way into my heart,
making your nest of love and memories.
Your song's sweet notes float their way into my soul
and make me hum a song of longing.
You've made a home in my heart, dear,
and I've grown so accustomed to you
that you've become a part of me now.
My ribs exist to protect you, not my fragile heart.
My veins carry your melody like oxygen,
my lungs and heart have moved
to integrate you into the synergy of my chest.
The effects of your presence are permanent,
there is no undoing your being.

There is no going back.
My love has gone out to you,
irretrievably, irreplaceably, unconditionally.
And even now, my body is already sore,
anticipating and dreading the day you fly away.
It aches in fear of you wrenching your home from my ribs,
shattering the protection I've maintained for you.
The shards of my bones and the splinters of your nest
will forever remain embedded within
my flesh and my mind for all of eternity.
You may decide one day that you want to return home,
and I will split open these bones of mine once again,
just to welcome you back.

But you might not want to come back, however.
And in that case just know that you live on;
in my mind forever loved and remembered.
This pierced heart will always beat to your rhythm,
your song will always flow through my veins.
My flesh will always remember the touch of yours.
Know that within your own ability to fly, you gave me wings.
As you've grown over time, I've grown as well.
Just know that I will always hum your song
to comfort and heal myself, even as you flutter away
and I clutch at my chest and my sheets
while a note of hope rises in my throat.

"I have this breath and I hold it tight,

to keep it in my chest with all my might,

I pray to god

this breath will last,

even as it pushes

past my lips

as I...

gasp."

Stop.
Push my buttons 1, 2, and 3
Test me, push me, the truth you will soon see,
At the end of my rope is more than what society says,
But to be different is suicide so we hang on by poisonous threads,
You look in the mirror and hate what looks back,
We are raised from birth to be weighed and measured for self-attack.
Stop.
Is beauty defined by who vies to hold my hand?
Not by the intelligence and strength of who fears not to stand,
to stand when the whole world may be pushing them down,
but holds their head high as if balancing an imaginary crown,
I know not what it feels like to live in contentment,
Save me, I'm falling in the abyss of resentment.
Stop.
Would you love me if I looked more like what you see on the screen,
If I was taller and smaller, built like a queen,
Why is it that I chase for your approval,
the cure to your poison is permanent removal,
Surely men want more than just glory,
Is this all there is to my potential love story?
Stop.**
Speak of the devil, You show up once again,
and imprint your mark in permanent pen,
There is more to me than you will ever know,
Because for some reason I was lost at hello.

You may see my rhymes as the kindergarten act of A, B, C
but stop and push my buttons 1, 2, 3.