Clipped
I thought I had wings to fly; but the moment I flapped, they folded inward.
Have you tried rattling the bars of a cage? Steel bars are easy. They make a noise—metal on metal— to let the whole world know the one within draws attention. Have you tried screaming through a cage? Solid walls are easy. They propagate well—sound through matter— to let those outside know the one within hungers devotion. Have you tried flashing signals out a cage? Water leaks are easy. They welcome reflection—light on glass— to let those unwary beware the one within seeks diversion. But when the bars are smoke and mirrors? There is no give. You shake your fists—matter on void— but the world does’t see the one within cries aversion. And when the cage dissolves in acerbic licks? There is no break. The walls effervesce in words—said and unsaid— and the world never finds the one within lacks absolution. Have you tried rattling the bars of a cage? Open bars cut heavy. The only shadows that escape—masks over masks— a fleeting mark on the world. The one within? Mutes commotion. I tried to rattle the bars of that cage. Lies trap the love. There was a pang of hurt—blood versus blood— unseen by those called home and I, within, lost intention.