Do you know what it's like to walk on a bridge that is deteriorating?
That is strung between the high plateaus on either side of a canyon floating,
No safety net.
An abyss below, an abyss of failure,
Despair; I am walking the tightrope suspended over darkness,
It is the downward spiral embodied by a great fissure in the earth.
On the other side dreams are calling,
But each step taken towards them is another risk
Of falling, into old habits.
I wake up.
There is a short moment of relief before,
Before I realize I am still in a cage.
Or maybe the cage is inside me.
I struggle to get free,
But the bars are too stubborn,
I am not strong enough to bend them...
I am reminded by a voice from the grave,
'Sing when you hurt and sing when you cry,
Sing when you live and sing when you die'
So I sing, and I sing well.
I know why the caged bird sings,
But I am not the bird.
I am a cage. A cage in search
Of a bird, like Kafka.
My heart is an empty shell
And I wish for a reverse metamorphosis,
In which I wake up a human,
Instead of vermin.