I saw the bird through my window, staring at me beyond the glass filled with drops of the pouring rain. I could see it in its eyes, it did not belong in this world or no other that I had knowledge of. I could see it in its deep dark eyes the reflection of my very soul, troubled and trapped. I could hear its screams and the sound of its nails as they scratched the walls around it. The bird opened its wings wide as if they were about to fly away, but instead it aimed them towards me. For a split second it seemed time had stopped, and the black bird sang. A sweet, childish melody that could easily have been mistaken for a lullaby, if not for the desperation behind the notes.
The screams became louder, and louder, and louder. They were deafening and powerful, although they were also silent and shy. I could feel the Earth moving, I could feel its gravity pulling me under. I wanted to close my eyes, but I knew I couldn’t. So I waited. I waited for that split second that seemed to last forever to be over. I waited for time to start making sense again. I waited for the bird to realize it could not catch me through the wet glass.
Its wings, though. were stronger than the now completely shattered glass that kept me from being swallowed by its darkness. It wasn’t even kind enough to put me under before involving me in its cold, puncturing embrace. I had never felt so lonely, so empty before.
I felt its wings grow bigger and close down around me as its claws were carved in my chest, piercing through my bones. Its eyes met mine and in that moment we became one.
We flew somewhere amongst long forgotten and never fully formed memories but that, yet, brought up every bit of feeling as a fresh one – and, perhaps, even stronger and deeper. We were pulled into this spiral of sensations we never could, otherwise, even reckon as human, such was the power over our minds they had. The darkness was blurry and confusing, and yet nothing had ever made so much sense before. I realized how comfortable I felt in that silent part of nowhere in the world and suddenly my chest no longer hurt. The wounds from the bird’s claw brought me a warm sensation and I could breathe again. I felt my body slowly giving into the darkness, relaxing. I laid my head down and returned the bird’s embrace as I felt my eyes getting heavier while my lips moved in the shape of a smile. I thanked the bird for the darkness and let myself immerse in it.
I saw pictures of beautiful, peaceful places. I felt the snow that didn’t make me shiver. on my hair and I felt fire on my hands that couldn’t burn me. I smelled the stars that reminded me of wet grass and I touched the clouds that felt like silk. We were flying high enough for the weight of our bodies to become irrelevant. Nothing made much sense, yet everything was where it was supposed to be.
The screams had finally ceased and all I could hear was the horrendous lullaby that played in my head when the black bird sang, and it was all I could hear through the pressure I felt in my ears. I could finally close my eyes. So I did it.
The bird untightened his grip and slowly let go of me. It then kissed me goodnight and I realized that never had I ever felt such kindness and love before. Even when it plucked my neck and took a piece of my skin, it felt like a kiss.
The bird sang louder as to keep me from hearing the ugliness of the world, it sang louder as to keep my eyes closed and my smile on.
The black bird sang to me again and again over the years. Sometimes louder than others. Sometimes kinder than others. It would come back time after time to embrace me in that very same darkness and pluck pieces of myself. It would come back although I had no more pieces to give.
And even though every part of me has been taken by its beak, I can still hear it when the black bird sings.
