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Three Birds
 
You find three birds with broken wings.
 
The first little bird tries to bite you and claw you to get away.
 
You fix the wing away.
 
The second bird is silent, totally passive. Just laying there helpless, not even trying to help herself.
 
You fix the wing anyway.
 
The third bird tells you profusely how wonderful you are for helping him as he tries to help you help him, but his attempts to help get in your way.
 
You fix the wing anyway.
 
You sit in the green grass and watch the three little birds.
 
They can all fly now.
 
One little bird glares at you and flips you the “birdie”.
 
One of them never says a word.
 
One of the birds compulsively thanks you for your help.
 
They all fly away.
 
They are supposed to fly away.
 
That is what you do when you have two good wings.
 
Your wing is broken.
 
Someone fixes your wing.
 
Despite yourself.
 
They fix you anyway.
 
You feel mad that they fixed you.
 
You could have done it without their help.
 
They were just showing off by fixing you.
 
It was easier with a broken wing anyway, then you did not have to fly.
 
You are so overwhelmed by their help that you have no clue what to say, you feel unworthy.
 
You say nothing.
 
You feel guilty they helped you.
 
You so want to be just like the one that is fixing you, that you smother them with kindness.
 
You can hardly see what your own perfect self looks like because you are so fixated on theirs.
 
You realize that you have two good wings.
 
You fly away.
 
You are supposed to fly away.
 
That is what you do when you have two good wings.
 
You see a bird with a broken wing.
 
You are busy flying.
 
You fix their wing anyway.
 
You do not hear the bird cuss you out.
 
You do not notice the bird never saying a word.
 
You do not hear the profuse thank yous.
 
You have two good wings.
 
You fly away.
 
-mmj

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