Birds

There's thousands of birds following me.

A few hundred by accident, many more on purpose.

Some I don't even notice are following me, but you know what they say: "sooner or later they'll come to light".

People can't see my birds, but everyone has them. I can't see theirs.

But there are these occasions in which someone will see another person's bird. Most of the time it never ends well because, you see, these birds exist for a reason...

To hide shame.

Out of fear.

By accident.

To fit in.

To protect.

I guess even now a new bird has started following me, for I do not want to acknowledge them for what they are.

So I'll keep the flock following me, hoping no one sees my birds; hoping I get to see whatever birds started following others because of me.

It's a funny thing, really, how sometimes the smallest birds grow to become as big as condors, bigger even. And it's fine until people start asking.

"Why do you look so tired? Why do look so burdened? are you keeping a bird?"

No, of course not. I'm not keeping any birds!

Except there's a new bird following me from the distance, getting closer every second.

"Are you sure? I'm a really good bird keeper. I can help you if you ask."

And how do I answer to that? Do I risk my birds escaping or do I risk the burden of another bird?

But my birds are getting agressive and I can't keep this up.

You're right, sorry. I lied...

And oh, would you look at that... it seems that last bird has stopped following me.