Baby birds fell like snow from our porch rafters each spring.
Gentle handed and stubborn hearted
I would scoop them up in shoe boxes
and beg my mother to let me teach them how to fly.
They always died a few days later.
I always cried.
A few months ago, I learned that when she was younger
my mom used to make a home for all of the neighborhoods
abandoned animals in the families old woodshed.
At her peak, she had two dogs, three cats, and one gray rabbit.
When my grandmother caught on to this
she made her set them all loose, hoping her daughter
would learn that some things are pointless to cage.
But habits never die they just take on new bodies.
Sheds turn into first dates and beasts turn into bad lovers.
My whole life, I watched her bring home men with heavy accents
who introduced themselves to me by their first names.
They never stayed.
She always cried.
I am beginning to wonder if this is an inherited trait.
Broken boys started writing me songs
and braiding me necklaces in the 9th grade.
Gentle handed and stubborn hearted
I used to think that they wanted me to save them.
I willingly threw every part of myself into their food bowls.
They would suck on my hipbones some nights until
I was certain there couldn’t be any meat left on me.
They always left.
I always cried.
I have heard people claim that theirs hearts are homes…
mine is nothing but a pound for stray dogs and boys.
b.e.fitzgerald (Stray.Stay.)


Zion I - Silly Puddy (feat. The Grouch)

Now you can faze me with your laughter your smiles or your pain
I feel your trials when I’m down and out or winning at the game
No one to claim Creator yet the masses are perplexed
Cause by life we’re so impressed, we all wish we had a next
And that’s no matter how much I complain
Really couldn’t place no blame
I’ll just refrain try stayin’ sane and hope you watch your aim
I scope and got the flame
To make and knock and sock the same
Got to use the brain
So I can lose the chain