I live in a birdcage.
I live in a birdcage.
This birdcage is familiar, though not comfortable. Protected, though not safe.
My friends all have colorful feathers and God-given wingspans, meant to carry them to great heights and adventures. I used to believe I was the same. That I was destined to grow bigger still into a graceful macaw. You see, I made promises to my macaw friends. The same promises made over and over to lovely creatures who grew too big for their enclosures. I, however, am still a 5 inch tall parakeet. I have not grown in years, lest I gain some independence of the entertainments held in my home. My macaw friends who outgrew their cages have also apparently outgrown the friendship of a creature no taller than a cup of coffee.
My captor opens the cage door sometimes. It swings open with a rusty cry and holds two fingers out for me to hop on.
I hop. I allow myself to be fawned at, pet, loved. Then I am put back. There is no schedule, no predictable time or place for these small bouts of freedom.
I cherish these moments of love, of praise, but they are often too fleeting and too fast. I love her I love her I love her, but when I tell her so, she pats my head, kisses me, and puts me back. I do not know where she goes, or if she intends to be gone this long. All I know is that she has not changed her habits once during my life.
I waited for the day when she would carry me with her. She would open the rusty cage door and hold out her shoulder for me. She would throw out the cage and take me with her everywhere. She would parade me around and give me kisses and pets and tell all her friends how much she loves me.
Instead, she only holds out two fingers. I hop. I pose. I am put back.
I can’t dare try to fly away. My wings are too tiny and malformed. I’d be caught before I reached a window.
You see, I have tried to fly.
I have bitten and squawked at my captor, tried to flap my useless wings, cried out for freedom.
If not freedom, then just love.
I didn’t make it past 5 feet.
This isn’t a surprising endeavor though.
It’s not like I was ever meant to be a macaw anyways.
Posted Nov 29, 2019, 7:36 PM UTC · edited