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.
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 8:49 PM UTC
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.
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