Cages Fell Apart

By Kinnereth Din, 17

If wind is nothing more than whispers

carried here and there

And halos around our faces

are nothing more than

lantern’s flare

If I am but a hallowed home

of candles lit one by one

Then I want not a word that’s from

your mind

Or a moment we pretend to find.

I want not the wired barbs

that string our laughs.

I want not the golden crown

fencing your head

whenever we fashion high

our works of passing sand.

If only I had been

a brighter, boundless

prison

If only I had spared room

for a rare

red bird.

Then I could have held

my mother’s words,

pocketed them in my clothes.

But she doesn’t want them

in my head

or my jeans,

clutched in my hand.

I wished I’d kept them in my heart

before my cages fell apart.

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We all sometimes experience a disconnect between our current perception of ourselves and who we wish to be. This poem explores the push and pull of yearning and frustration that we wrestle with as part of our identity. I hoped also to communicate the transformation we undergo when we are forced to reconcile with our past failings and face our uncertain future.

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