she was molded by molten to be free
of the chains once capturing her spirit,
binding her to something she didn’t sign.

society binds me to the fears of the future
in a way that makes it hard to know if I
will ever be able to let go of it’s imprisonment.

I was not forced in the same way as the fevered bird,
who was caught and confined to a cage so small
she could barely contort her body enough to sleep.

no, I was merely led to believe my existence
wasn’t a cage at all. I was foolish until the gate
was locked, until it was too late to leave.

at death, our contracts turned to an ash
that ate through our flesh and bones,
left us raw with the wounds of the world.

like feathers formed from the dust of a fire,
new worlds will rise from our rage,
reborn until we can do nothing but fly.

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