Bluest Bird Poem by Julian Takali

We aren't at all that different; except
Your window is most of the time half open
While mine bleeds black
Your strides are at full speed
While mine are at the end of the pack
Your throat is as clear as day
While mine is my ashtray
Your tongue drink sweet dew
While mine swallows pills through
Your nights are quite, calm
While mine wait till dawn
Your grasp is always airtight
While mine has frostbite
You care about verse and rhyme
And actually getting things done on time
You swear to god and actually mean it
I spoke to god, asked for what I needed
But he only hummed, said not a word
Not that I expected more
Im just the bluest bird