Aira James

The bird in the window

When I was seventeen a bird appeared at my window 

He was beautiful, like a beautiful sunny day and a well-written poem 

But when I looked at that bird my heart hurt 

But I never find out why 

 

And that stayed in my mind forever 

Like an intrusive thought

Pecking the back of my head 

Without stopping for a minute 

 

I turned eighteen 

I turned eighteen and two months 

I turned eighteen and six months 

And like the first time, there he was

 

In the same window, Looking inside my room 

But this time he was different

Because when I looked at him, I felt jealous 

And I finally understood 

 

The beautiful bird went and came back

Without anyone saying it 

Without anyone asking

And as I look around my room, my door closed, the mess and the window locked...

 

I closed my eyes and felt

For seconds that felt like hours 

But when I opened 

A scream from the kitchen made me stop

I sighed, looked at the window and...

The beautiful bird left once again