Flight of the Wingless Avian

I saw a wingless avian take flight for the first time.
I saw her jump from the open window that sang to her sweet melodies of freedom.
I saw her pale feet touch the icy ledges of the 7th floor concrete building, before she crossed the line.
The line between flying and falling.
The line between living and dying.
The blurry line between giving up and dragging your feet, trying desperately to hold on.

I saw her featherless skin that was colored with white chalk and sprinkled with snow.
She glistened like a diamond on that rainy afternoon, but she was a fading flame, slowly losing its glow.
She gently looked up towards the grey and gloomy sky,
She whispered sweet nothings to it, as if it was her lover and I,
Was mesmerized by the beauty of her essence that unfolded right before my eye.
She was clearly broken and the scars and bruises were the cracks she tried to hide.
She was obviously troubled by the voices that filled her head.
The voices that kept tormenting her at night, while she laid down in bed.
Her eyes were broken windows to her shattered soul.
They were dull and lifeless, making her look like a product of a twisted fate that is oh so cruel.
She was gorgeous, but life had her looking like a ghoul
and yet, if she was indeed undead,
Then she was the most dazzling zombie character I’ve ever seen, or read.

Yes, she was messed up and nobody understood, but she was gorgeous to me
And if only I had tried to appoach her,
If only I had exchanged sounds like “Hi” or “How are you doing?” with her,
If only I had taken the time
To listen as she pours the limitless volume of grime
That has filled her Hydriai with mossy backwater,
Then there could’ve been a chance that maybe,
I could’ve broken her fall, catch her and prevented this tragedy.

But… I didn’t.
No, I most certainly didn’t.
I just watched her spread her arms, bend her knees and jump.
As I watched in slow motion I could hear my heart pump
And I could see her slash through the tiny droplets of rain.
I could see her gliding through the air, like a rain-soaked dove
And I could see her eyes were closed, content as if she had found her one true love,
And she was smiling. A smile that told me she has finally found peace from all the pain.
That’s it! That was exactly it!
She was flying her pain away.
All the hurt and misery that made her decide not to stay.
She eventually came into contact with the cold, wet and unforgiving pavement,
And now crimson was the color that filled the street’s waterdrains and asphalted cement.

I saw a wingless bird take flight for the first time
And I knew that what I saw will forever haunt my mind.
Her pale feet and featherless skin that has been colored with white chalk and sprinkled with snow,
Her eyes which were windows to her broken and shattered soul
And the mangled shell that once contained her ghost,
Were now swallowed by a wave of bystanders, pedestrians, cops and fools.
They gawk at the ghastly site and take pictures for their FB post,
While she slowly fades and drowns into the blackness of their shadows.