her cage
ive recently come to the inevitable realization that running simply does not work.
no matter how far i go, she is always waiting.
begging.
pleading.
screaming.
rightfully deserving of a space to be free, an unfortunate neglect on the 'better half'
i thought i could run, no- i knew i could run. for a short time, at least. pretend to forget her in the past like a scent you cant quite put your finger on...
keep pretending. always fucking pretending.
running is pointless when she is the version of myself that i recognize the most.
she is the one i owe my life to.
baby steps, she whispered to me-
cold nights, frozen tears and a prius thats still fucking going.
without her sacrifice my chest wouldnt continue to rise and fall,
she deserves to be honored for that, and for every single sacrifice since.
under a different set of stars she got to be free. my heart aches knowing that the stars we own will never truly get to see themselves in her.
instead- our stars witnessed a seed planted in the wrong garden, tended by razor laden fingers.
in turn, they receive a tamed and docile shell. a focused little thing.
a replica of what she once was, and still longs to be.
a woman quietly fighting to get that little flower back into the right garden.
a woman with hands of steel wool that she can no longer use, instead puppeteered by others with only one goal in mind.
i cannot continue to run from her when it was her sacrifices that got us to this point.
and it is her hands i have bound.
one day i hope to free her, but i fear these stars may never see her again.
the least, and all i can do for now, is give her this.
give her some kind of outlet, a space to breathe. somewhere that she can put all the things she screams at me when the sky turns black.
so thats what this page will be, her lifeline.
her home.
her cage.
locked, for now, at least.
//m.b.//
