Gilden Birdcage
Her lips dripped with honey.
Bee's nuzzled lovingly under her chin,
And crawled across her ethereal face.
Smooth white silk,
Marble floors.
Gardens full of flowers.
Her steps were as light as a feather,
Her voice was as soft as velvet.
Her heart was pure.
Everything she touched turned to gold.
Birds pecked the seeds she gently cradled in her hands.
Men traveled far to glimpse her beauty,
Some even swooned at the sight of her golden eyes.
The men's lips poured poisoned words and false promises.
They wanted to use her,
Take this beautiful and delicate creature and destroy her.
The horrors of the men did not reach her,
Did not even breach her mind's shimmering gates.
She paid no heed to the desperate beasts clawing at her door.
She fed the birds generously and cared deeply for these creatures of flight.
Oh, how much she wanted to fly,
To taste the crisp, sweet tang of freedom on her honey-coated lips.
Yet, she could not leave.
The doors were locked, keeping the beasts out.
But keeping herself inside this lavish hell.
No amount of joyful songs or sweet tarts could banish this gaping hole in her chest.
Days passed and yet she felt restless,
The men lingered, admiring her fathomless beauty from afar.
She wanted to be free,
More than anything.
Days passed and the hole spread,
Turning her honey-sweetened words into sour wine.
The gates of her mind turned ebony and hatred crept into her golden heart.
She could take it no longer.
Her dress fluttered in the wind as she stood on her balcony.
As their obsession's feet neared the edge, the beastly men shouted in selfish horror.
Storm clouds brewed and rain splattered like tears on her silk dress,
As if even the sky was crying for the waste of a beautiful girl.
Two words left her soured and parched lips,
"I'm free."
Not a word,
Not a sound,
Not even the splat of a body hitting the ground.
She was ready for death,
Prepared for death's icy hands to grasp her and tug her under,
For that must surely be better than living in a gilded jail.
A cage was a cage, whether it was draped in silk or jewels.
Death did not come.
Instead,
Wings tore from her back and lifted her shattered heart skyward.
She flew far, far, away from those wretched eyes,
She flew over past heartbreaks and the darkness receded from her soul.
Sugary syrup sweetened her sour words,
And love once again filled that gaping void in her chest.
She wept tears of joy,
For she was free.
Copyright © Joy Reeves | Year Posted 2023
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