The bird outside my window
flew high the day you left me
he soared and cawed,
as if warning me
and urging me to walk away
but I didn't,
because love is a funny thing

He's been waiting on the sill
for me to open up
and gently shoo him away
but instead I lay in bed
twisting with pain and loss
dying a little more,
with every passing moment

That old bird never left me
he hangs around, lazily
waiting for me to let go
waiting for me to move on

But I can't
and I won't
because being bitter is too easy
and falling out of grace,
is a beautiful way to be