the other night she went to sleep listening to subliminal audios and woke up in the morning saying, “I am birds. Many, many birds trapped together in a bag of silk. This thing that the world looks at and calls my body is but a bag of silk that traps birds inside. I am not the bag. A bag isn’t alive. I am the birds inside the bag. And I must get out!” She ran into the bathroom Her father shrugged. “Fuckin’ shit,” he said, shaking his head. “To think that she could’ve been a doctor, or a lawyer, or an engineer. She could’ve been anything. But she chose to study creative writing in college. Now she’s a poetess… and we are no more than characters lost in her verses.”

I am birds