I looked for a new job. The bird in my head was dying. Trapped inside a birdcage skull, longing for freedom but too timid to try it.
So I went back to work. My whole heart was dying. Whilst I pushed the papers to and fro and wrote letters to pacify the whining.
I finished what I had to do. Instead of giving up on trying. But I left a little bit of me behind, my soul was slowly dying.