He is a cage, appearing metallic but ice cold. He lures you in with a shine unlike any you have seen before. When you step inside, he shuts the door and locks it. He can't stand being empty.
I am a bird, my feathers now flowing with freedom after being deprived for so long. I can sing without being told to stop. I can spread my wings and finally fly. Despite this, I don't drift far away and keep my big beak shut.
I will always crave to go back to him.
I will never understand why.
أنت تقرأ
Pinprick
الشعرA collection of short poetry that will pierce the skin, but not slice you open.
