I watch the birds fly in the sky. They fly free, dancing around in paths too random for the mind to understand and the eyes to track. They are free, what I am not.
I see her by the window, gazing at the sky again. Her posture is that of a doll, positioned on the corner of a shelf and leaning over from slowly losing the struggle with gravity. I watch her gather dust.
"What are you watching?"
"Dreams are only for those who are asleep. You're awake, you idiot."
"You're so bitter."
I see her fret and curse at every detail that comes to her attention. From my customary spot by the window, I watch both her and the sky.She is a bird with broken wings, flapping helplessly and shrieking at everything that comes near.
Bitter? I guess I am bitter. These legs have become blocks of lead, dead and unmoving. I can no longer even think about following my dreams.
"You cry at night."
There is venom in her glare.
"I do not."
"Even if you do it into your pillow, I can still hear you."