Birdie

I found the box
Hidden in her closet
Wrapped in an old t-shirt.
The dead bird was half there.
I asked her
What happened
And she opened her mouth
And let the feathers fly out.
I knew what had
Happened to the bird.
We buried them both
With daisies with
Silky white and yellow
Petals wrapped around
A black eye.
My fingers barely touched
Around the bouquet.
She would have laughed.
I whispered my secrets
To the same wall she had
And heard the same answers.
It told me her secrets and lies.
They were so alike,
Her and the wall,
So cold and hard.

yup... review and all that!