The world holds on around us
While we fall apart
still, we falter in this dance
not allowing one another to ever change their stance
we shrug, palms up and say, ‘Fuck knows, eh?’
and we smile knowing smiles
a joke that needn’t be said
the birds sing
as if the world wasn’t broken
as if we didn’t yearn for slings
to support us with our aches
and we listen and we say, ‘That’s a blackbird, advertising for mates’
then we smile sheepishly
Secrets between our teeth
‘If you were a bird, which one would you be?’ You ask
And I reply, ‘a bittern so I can hide away in the rustling of the reeds and boom and bust with secretive laments, where no one really knows where I am or what I meant’
But, no, I don’t really say that, I shrug and say, ‘I don’t know.’
because this is part of the game
always holding back the little parts of ourselves
when we’re not sure what should be shown