there is a knot in my chest.
it ties itself tighter around my throat, chokes me silent with everything i can’t find the words to say.
language sits heavy on my tongue slips past my teeth into empty air;
i say nothing.
some will call this love. others: destruction. sacrifice.
around my heart is a golden cage when the bird lies trapped wings meant to fly but held down beneath metal bar
but i am the cage just as i am the bird
i am not the key.
think of the sky and heavy storm clouds; think of the fall of rain, a weight of the sky.
believe in catharsis and you shall find it in the hollows of your bones and the ache in your soul when you exhale your sorrows.
it’s okay to cry; the rain of humanity heals.
find the end of the string and pull it as far as you can
and then farther.
put words to the unknowable; reinvent language until your tongue becomes unstuck from the roof of your mouth.
i find my freedom in the ink – smudge and imperfect, barely legible.
but it’s mine.
the bird in my chest sings;
i call it poetry.