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Freedom 


That's what love is, or what it should be but it feels like a cage used for torture. The moment I met you there was something implanted into me. You nurtured this gift and it bloomed into beautiful wings. 

I flew like it was naturally the only thing I was born to do. But then one day I fell and I haven't been so lucky to be healed and free again. Now I'm shackled in a 'safe space'. 

It's like a blind covering a pristine glass window and consuming an otherwise bright room in crummy pseudo-darkness. 

In the dark I glare at the rays of light from the small cracks in the blind which hit my skin. Golden and persistent they warm me. 

I want certainty. Am I dark or light?

The wings do not know me anymore. Not like they know you. They flap and flutter a dance of longing for you who never settles. 

You come and you go as you displease. With every step away from me I feel my wings being pulled out of my back. 

The pain, the loss, daily it stings my backbone. I barely feel anymore. I'm an emotional handicap waiting to be wheeled to the next chamber of struggles. 

I just

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