A Series Of Cages Pt. 1

      I gave up about the third time. They say third time’s the charm and well, it certainly wasn’t for me. Welcome to my world. It’s a cage by the way. Something I built for myself. Don’t break it, I already tried. They did too and gave up. On the third try of course because the first time is for curiosity and the second to make sure of the curiosity and the third is simply for the satisfaction. The satisfaction of knowing that it’s not as curious as you thought it was.

         When they said I was free, I realized they meant my body and not me. After all, it can still move; exerting muscles while straining tendons thrust forward bones and contorting ripples along my skin. I saw a bird and watched it fly in the same way. For a moment, I could feel myself soaring along with between the hues of blue and white before diving into the brambles where glimpses of fur would scuttle about along the quivering branches draped in luscious green. This would be before I would return to behind the windows along which I would sit contemplating the drips of rain that curve along its smooth exterior as though carving out my life within its faint remaining streaks. The soft drifting aroma of tea between the constant ticks of the clock that so mesmerized the mind; indulging it so that despite its attempts to flee, it would remain crippled only to sit and listen. Then I would rise, listening carefully to each groan that I could perceive from my weeping joints and place each footstep carefully as though the floor would give away and I would fall to my eternal dwelling place. The lights above would flicker and the radio would play mournful jazz and that would be my heaven for me. After all, it was already the cage I had chosen in to be.

         Thirty seconds and the adults would come honking by. They were foolish bunch. Not that I could tell them. How much better the life of a cage could be. Instead they prefer their puffy seats of plastic as superficial breezes would stream past their heads along with the disjointed strings of curses within terrible melodies as their hands slammed back and forth against the dreadful invention known as a horn. From me, there was pity along with occasional waves at the strangers glancing by at my cage. I would smile and for some reason that no human really knows, they too would smile. In this way we would greet each other and pity another. One for being in a moving hell and the other for being in a cage.