Trapped bird
In the shadows of a childhood, twisted by choices that were not my own, I wonder why some wear crowns while I bear chains, heavy with the weight of secrets, the poison of a quiet home. A mother’s hands,
meant to cradle, instead reached for darkness, inviting chaos to our doorstep, weaving a tapestry of hurt wrapped in neglect and a silence that screamed. Why choose him?
Why the haze of smoke and sorrow, the echo of laughter drowned in the clink of glass? A dance with shadows, a betrayal I cannot understand, where innocence was the price of her decision. My body bears the scars, the tilt of my hope,
an unyielding reminder of nights spent by fear, stolen dreams that flutter like trapped birds in a cage I never wanted to live in. The fight ahead is steep, every stride a step forward to rebuild against a fate I did not choose.
I gather strength from the ashes, ignite the fire of resilience to reclaim what was always mine the right to heal, to nurture, to birth joy from the wreckage of someone else’s choices. It’s not fair, they say,
but neither is the path I must now tread, and in that battle, I will rise, no darkness can embrace. Or break me this time
