When we met, I was free as a a bird… but free birds can’t be caged.
I’ve been caged. My spirit slowly stifled despite the fact you love and care for me. It’s not intentional. You never meant to break my spirit. In fact, you didn’t… the social constraints of marriage did.
You love me so much you want to preserve me and keep me all to yourself. When other people look in my bird cage, it’s only okay up to some point. You don’t want them to look inside longingly, only as an object to envy.
I pretend to be happy all caged up. I chirp and flutter my wings, but never to the same extent I did before. I stop singing so much. I see no point. I’ve began to forget my songs as I slowly forget freedom. After some time I realise I’ve lost my voice. Even if I screamed at the top of my lungs, it would be pointless. I’m voiceless, and my cries for help are as fruitless as screaming into an empty canyon. All I hear back in response are my own echoes in the chamber of my mind where I slowly lose grip on reality.
I become depressed. My beautiful, bright plumage begins to fade and I slowly moult. I can’t spread my wings to their fullest extend in my cage. I become weak. I stop trying to stay strong, because I feel there’s no point. I begin to wilt away and slowly disintegrate.
While I used to be able to pretend I was a happily caged and domesticated pet, it’s become obvious that I’m miserable. I tried to fool myself, and the best way to do that it by deceiving the public. I feel as though I’m dying slowly from the inside out. I want to scream, and beat my wings to ask for help out of the cage but I’ve become to weak.
After a while, nobody believes my fake smiles. It’s apparent I’m sick. People ask if I want out of the cage. The owner even opens the door… but I’ve forgotten how to fly.
I realise that I’m no longer free… because free birds can’t be caged.