There can't be anything better,
than fresh baked banana bread
filling the air on a sunday,
bright red hair dye staining my arms,
only after it dripped off
my mothers head and made
a home in my pores.
There can't be anything much better,
than quality time with a pen,
scratching against paper
like a dog to a screen door,
that hasn't been opened for too long.
I'm just now learning
how to open my windows again,
after locking them tight,
to hide from fresh air
because who wanted that
when you weren't there?
Who wanted sunlight to
touch skin that you now refused to?
I'm just now realizing
that you were only a mere beginning.
You left because you'd
done what you were meant to,
you helped an injured sparrow to fly,
after putting a splint on it's
fractured wings, and nursing it
back to true liveliness.
You did what you could
to make an old soul smile,
even when you couldn't.
I'm just now learning what it means
to live on my own again,
live without worrying about
who is there to help me next,
because you made me realize
that somethings can only be
done by yourself, and to take
pride in not needing anyone's help.
Tonight I fly on my own,
and take pride in the fact,
that I don't need anyone to catch me.
I'm just now realizing the dangers
of entering someone else's home,
and then trying to call it your own.
Someday they'll want that privacy back,
and who are you, to tell them no?