I woke up feeling ruined and unwanted having been touched by the wrong hands. Like a baby bird who has been bird-napped and put back, and its parents shun it for the rest of its life because it’s been tainted by the smell of humans. Imprinted. Incapable of living a proper bird life again. Unable to love your own kind, unable to hunt for food, in some cases even unable to fly because you grew up around humans. Even though the belief that just touching a bird alienates it from all birdkind forever more has been debunked because birds don’t have a keen sense of smell–except for Turkey Vultures–today, with me, the myth stands. I am that imprinted bird. Ruined, tainted and unwanted.
I was imprinted by a lover who took me though he knew he couldn’t keep me. It didn’t matter to him that for years of his enjoyment, I would be ruined. I suspect he thought me devoid of feelings and figured it wouldn’t matter much to me if he condemned me to a life of solitude. And most days, I’m fine with my destiny. But sometimes the pain that comes with the absence of him sneaks up on me no matter who is in my life, like invisible hands open my chest and rip my heart out. My chest caves and I can’t breathe and I start to cry. No, lover, I am not devoid of feelings. I never was. You just wanted me to be.
And now I’m an imprinted bird and today I feel it in a big way so I went to the bar to cheer myself up and the power went out.
My Love is for the Birds - Sketches 