Roof Poem by Elisia Cardona

I can hear the sounds of small bodies of water move swiftly across the way, with dim chirps.
My eyes feel heavy, no matter how hard I try to open them they won’t open for me.
I can feel the ground beneath me and it’s foreign. I only have the sounds to comfort me.
I try moving, but only feeling broken bones that ace with the slightest twitches.
My back is warm and wet from what I can tell, it’s my own blood. Sense of time is absent.
The feeling shame comes to me as I bend the leg that’s not like shattered glass.
Dizziness and confusion dawns down as a breeze touches my faces like soft hands that know more than I do in why this happened to me.
Panic clouds me as I place my hand to left myself. Failure; every moment. More human.
I want to scream emphatically for the pain of each left is more agonizing then the last.
Commands flow in, “Eyes open! Fly open! Just open! , ” heavy tears stream down rosy cheeks and soft lips.
I can’t wash it all away, can’t wish it all away, can’t cry it all away, and can’t scratch it all away.
Is the concept of love such a sin to be casted down to a dirt world of foreign lands and the essence of greed?
Exhaustion with emotionless effort I drift down to a slumber and dream of where I use to come from.
Fields of soft sweet scented grass below with almost white blue skies that lasted longer than the sun stayed above.
Heaven most people call it, but I called it home. A rattled noise woke me, now reality.
The once sound of waters clash with the sounds of heavy industrial traffic and the dim turns into car alarms.
The heaviness from my eyes is gone, but fear of opening them to find this new world, which I’ll call home, now terrifies me.
Wooziness of feeling these different emotions astounds me and makes me nauseous. Hearing peoples footsteps and voices make me panic.
I begin to open my eyes slowly, squinting every so often as my eyes adjust. A dark lit sky with speckles that shined ever so brightly.
I gaze around me, trying to see where I am and in the corner of my eye I see a child no more than ten years old. I know he’s frightened by my appearance.
I speak softly to him. He asked me how I ended up on the roof and why are there so many red stained feathers around me. I only could smile sweetly at him.