You would pull out our feathers
and have us thank you for it.
Who are we but women
injected with black venom
to strip the song from our chest

It starts as a whisper, a twisting hand,
so begins the mutilation of our wings.
We find our once sharp tongues forked
singing only false promises, alluring lies.

You tell us:
Lose consciousness and gain it
Become your body and rid the mind
Elicit desire

You want this
Does it matter?
You have made us blameful anyway

All will overlook
the crimes against the Mockingbird.
We are criminals
Featherless, naked, lying mute

Use us
for we are nothing
but the impression
of a symbol lost.