The window is open
and a bird flies in with your voice
I want to keep you--
but you would **** all over my house.
Plus, I know you don't want to be here.
Birds hate it indoors.

How many songs can your wings sing?
Holding the same memory,
as if the mind floats above you
and carries you like a puppet.
What kind of holding is it?
How short are your talons clipped?

I'm sad to see your life on strings,
but you won't let me help.
You think you're flying away?

I hope to God you aren't.