Blackbird

I’m singing. I stare into the illusion, with my eyes bawled for the world, to prove myself wrong, and hate the heart I have pumping inside.

I don’t know what to write about, what to sing about, whom to talk to, what and whom to care for, why and what to try.

Now, you tell me if its alright, love is what has forbidden me for life.

Now, there’s a blackbird in my heart, it’s free, it’s flying, it’s flying towards my mind, which feels empty and brazen. but, but, but, but, but, the mind is the limit, it is also trapped like the bluebird, but blackbird is brazen and wild.

I did not push my little eggs, I did not push them towards death, before even being born. It’s my wings that constantly flap, it’s my wings that constantly flap, it’s my wings that don’t stop. I am petrified, I want to know if they are even flapping ?