Sunday, June 28, 2009



Yes.
I am yours. Your sweet bluebird. I am yours.
Put out the seed, fasten the feeder, I am home for summer; hungry and thirsty.
Yes, I am your bluebird.

I whistled at you today but you were busy, I guess.

I pecked at your window today but you were busy, I guess.

I fucking died for you and screamed your name and cried and drank and fell and stood up again
I wept and wailed, failed and fluttered, and even waited for God, sometimes.
I kissed death and swam with monsters
but you were busy,

I guess.

I am your bluebird and the summer is so strange without you.

-Love Sid
xoxo