He treats me like I’m a lost bird, delicate and adrift. He tiptoes around me, gently dropping little bits of food, hoping I’ll inch closer, hoping I’ll trust him. But I fell out of my nest too long ago. The world has left its marks on me, and I can’t be domesticated. I’m a lost, scared, fragile bird with broken wings that can’t heal.

I watch him from my side of the glass, a barrier that keeps us apart. He looks in at me with eyes full of hope and sorrow, wishing he could mend what’s broken. But I remain trapped, fluttering helplessly, yearning for the freedom I once knew. The glass is cold and unyielding, a silent reminder of the distance between us. He wants to save me, but some things are beyond saving.

In this fragile state, I am both seen and unseen, a ghost of what I once was. His kindness is a balm, but it cannot heal the wounds that time has etched into my soul. I am a bird that cannot fly, a spirit that cannot be tamed, forever longing for the open sky. 🌻

©️ Beatriz Esmer