I’m a bird who is outside,
born in captivity,
sheltered.

At least, that is how I feel.
But, what about my mother?
She was once wild and free,
cheerfully singing her songs.

Until one day you came.
You always speak of how you tamed her - saved her.
You clipped her wings,
claiming it will keep her from harm.

Your tongue flicks words off of its tip
like a drink spilled over the table,
the lies drenching the truth;
making them un-comprehendible.

My mother no longer sings her songs,
instead, she doesn’t even speak up to defend herself.
Your voice makes up for the lack of hers.
The room booms with lies.