between_a_whisper_and_a_scream crOwl listen to the sound i make words that form sentences thoughts flying out like a mother bird from her nest and i am the babybird left behind. "i want to grow," i say. "there's this growing hunger only you can fill. come back soon with worms dangling from your beak." but, when one falls from the nest, it's not me. i'm not that dead one being devoured by ants. 050527 what's it to you? who go blather from