why do i let the world get to me?
their claws are sharp. i thought my mind was sharper;
but i suppose one can only reach so far before getting bitten.
i am trapped,
trapped in a cage sealed with silence and broken sentences,
a prison of my own design.
my wings were large and strong once.
they beat furiously, words spilling off my feathers like water, but i clipped them.
i took the scissors they gave me and watched
as my voice floated gently away in the breeze.
why do i let the world get to me?
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