I s t r a i n againstA cartilaginous cage;A dark cocoonThat crumples my form.
Silken shackles,Layer upon layer,Suffocate me,Encase me.
Held hostageBy a chrysalisThat once promisedRefreshing rebirth.
Tightness threatensTo collapse my lungs.It breaks bones to fit a mold,In which, I do not belong.
My spine pressesAgainst the confines,Having grown beyondThis fiendishly unfit abode.
My body s h a k e sTo loosen the gripOf woven chainsThat entangle me still.
My fingers cra ckThe pale casing.Sunlight filters through.A held breath released.
WeightlessnessWashes over my skinSoaked in and heldLike sun on sand.
Enforced metamorphosis;Yet I am unchanged.Who I amIs who I always was.
About the Creator
N. DeBoni
an aspiring poet - student - chasing a dream
First Starlight of Summer
Your whole being is constituted by yearning. You miss the stars but have never seen a fully-realized night sky sparkle to life before your eyes. You write things, funny but short but profound, emulating the archaic cosmos that turns by its own unknowable calculus emulating love in all its celestial glory turning in that same cryptic way, but fully know neither and hardly know both, and it feels disingenuous, so you write about writers. It feels vaguely masturbatory, but it’s funny but short but profound and it impresses the people around you enough, so you run with it forever until you can’t anymore.
By Steven Christopher McKnight3 days ago in Fiction
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