Un-natural Disaster

Even the birds are gone now.
The last to leave,
They were the only thing keeping this whole charade together.
‘Oh sure’ we said,
‘It’s a little emptier around here now.
But we’ve still got birds.’
Funny how they always get used as a symbol of hope,
For so many different reasons.
But now?
We ain’t got no hope.
Not a damn thing’s gonna save us now.
We can’t see four feet to our left.
I remember,
Though you probably don’t believe me, son,
When you could see stars.
A time when the only limits that existed were the ones you imposed on yourself.
Now we’re stuck sitting at our windowsill,
Scrounging for some normalcy,
Trying to wait out this storm that ain’t never gonna end.
I like it this way, I think.
I mean, if I had a choice.
I wouldn’t want to know what’s coming,
Not through that cloud.
There’s less build-up this way.
Ain’t no body to tie our fear to,
Only them shadow creatures in our heads.
We’ll be alright.
For a little bit.
Just wish I could breathe a little better,
Struggling to breathe takes the energy out of you.
Are you listening?
Hello?
Well hell, guess you followed the birds after all.
Can’t say I blame you, I suppose.
I reckon I ought to just go to sleep then.
I ain’t no savior.
No need for me to struggle.
I just sure hope someone makes it out of this,
Someone else, on some other side of this storm.
As for me?
I’ll get to meet up with everyone I lost,
Everyone who left,
Even the birds.
Even if I have to find them in my dreams,
I can’t take this quiet state of being alone.
So sleep it is.

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