Something about Borrowing Leaves, I don't remember

A bird started to fly fearing falling forever
While a shark started to swim fearing the land
And both of them tried to succeed fleeing disaster knowing not
What it meant to fall, to dry up. to be harmed

*
Somebody wrote down on the walls of the bathroom meant for men
That the mirrors are all see-through and we can't trust anything
That we should never let them see our doors lay open to be seen--
Everyone bleaches out the vandalism

And my own sister, tired of forming bonds from numbers made of twine
She tells her story that in the women's bathroom, the roof was taken out
Yet nobody, she says, wants to fix it, for it was common sense for all
Everybody, she says, is safe since the watchers are not below

In the hallway by the corridor, no one is meant to find
Slept a cat who turned to human every full moon's night
Begging alms from poor trespassers, wanting food as its excuse
Yet when the sunrise comes, all the coins are stolen by the cleverer

*
Here, let's drink in harmony
Mead mixed with nightshade with free will
After sending our final documents
And every friend paid in both deeds and bills
Here, let's faint in synchrony
Not knowing what could have been
So long as we stay, we'll fear the future
And the future hostages our everything

Yet here the maids and butlers call our names at six o'clock
Thinking was there some scandal happening with masters and mistresses still there
Rushing with politeness imbued, knocking before they break through
Still, we were, no blood was spilled, and no poison in the air

No prayers, no coffins
No extravagant departures
Symbolism is optional when cremating tyrants
The loved ones yelled
"They lied to us, the oracles that said
Blessing and fortunes will come", and yet
Bodies welcomed us instead

Under the carpet in the hallway between the library and guest room
Was the final will of the trinity that went
An abundance of backup plans when the poison does not work out
An abundance of weapons, an abundance of competition
Nothing works out the way it's planned, especially when
Everything goes as planned, and the backups abandoned
And then one day, another meaning finds its cover in the shallowest crimes
Saying that fate brought to your hand the cyanide

*
We are the birds, we are the sharks that eventually learned how to move
Yet never running out of fear of what the land could ever feel
Only that moment we damaged our wings and fins, do we ever know
That the soil feels never-sinking

Inside those diaries, you'll find something subjective
About tasseography only used out of desperation
Someday, you too, and everyone else would fear walking out into the sand
For maybe they'll sink, and then

Hear me out,
Let those mouths
Move on their own
Yelling out
For a creator with something
In their hands
Even if only needles
That can create
An invalid tomorrow