When the cardinal dropped from the sky
When the phoenix lost its last feather flame
Setting fire to the whole damn aviary
While I was still inside crying for help,
No answers carrying the words I needed to hear
Or maybe just wanted to hear, unsatisfied,
That’s when it all made sense to me.
People are people and none of them understand
The complicated machinations of my mind
But my words, both shared and kept in closed notebooks,
They understand me and I understand them.
I live by them and they keep me together,
They lick my wounds and swallow my revenge
They kill my ghosts and give me a future to believe in
Where people are still people and my words are always mine.
Philip, My favorite image from the poem is that of words licking one’s wounds. Any writer understands the last three lines of this ultimately comforting poem.
I really like this. I wish my own words would help me “swallow my revenge.”