I’ve been raised in a cage of glass
The bars rising up towards the heavens to protect my crown
The sides pressing in around me to envelop me in crystalized warmth
The smooth and unblemished floor to steady me, while keeping me still on the ground
Unmoving, unable to even stand in case I slip and fall
Even the cage bodes danger
Yet, I see the outside through the glass
And wish
And desire
And know that it is time to breathe deep the polluted, beautiful air
I use my hands to scratch at the silken crystal, and my fingers bleed from the confusion of use
I bash my hands repeatedly against the walls that pin me in, and cry out from my cocoon
My house of lies
I am no butterfly but a lion
I am no princess in this moment but a beggar
I roar and I cry
I sing and I whisper
Break, break, break it all down
With fists of rock and a contorted, bruised face, I slam against my fortress
Against the memories that paint a picture of freedom within these walls
Against the desire to be a child forever
Yet, my heart knows nothing about the world of monsters and queens
And I pause the battle with my keep
Hesitation and confusion greet me as old friends
The heart beats in time with its contradictory flips:
No.
Yes.
Now.
Never.
Be free.
Stay safe.
Leaning back, the glass is cool against my heated skin
“Don’t go,” says the beast living with me in my cage
I open my eyes to meet his
“There is nothing for me here,” I remind myself, clenching my fist once more
“But I am here,” he says; his head cocking to the side in confusion of my words, my severity
“And that is why I must go,” I whisper
He quivers
And I repeat
“That is why I must go.”
A dancing strand of color catches my eye, holding my gaze
Pulling my attention and thought
The colors multiply and expand to swallow the universe
The harsh light is amplified by the glass
The cage rattles, and cracks begin to appear where there had just been only smudges of blood before
And light explodes around me in a symphony of colors
The beast whimpers softly, pathetically, calling out to me
But only the sound of breaking glass fills my ears
Only the light fills my eyes
The glass cascades down around me like falling stars from the night sky
I am crushed, but I raise my head, feeling blood trickling down all around me
“You are dead now,” the beast spits at me as it flees
“No, I am reborn,” I cry as I gently reach out to touch the grass
I try to stand, but my muscles are not formed; I am weak
I cry out as I don’t know how to stand; a newborn in a land of wolves—I can hear them at the door
“Do not be afraid,” a voice like honey calls out to me
My head snaps up and beholds a small lamb
“Do not be afraid,” he repeats
“I am here”
Without shame, without fear, I fling myself at the lamb and wrap my arms around his neck
Nestling my head into his wool, my blood is wiped clean
“Follow me,” the lamb said after a while
Scared once more, I begin to speak
A million excuses
A million fears
A million wounds
But the lamb looks lovingly at me
Knowingly
“Even still, follow me”
My head nods in tune with my heart
I struggle and trip as I carry my own weight
But with my hand placed firmly on his back,
I follow
I walk out from my tomb