Prisoner of the Ribcage

By Hailey L. Parkinson

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What is this vibration
Deep below hidden behind the bars
Of a cage made up of bones?
Entrapped away from reach
Of the wanton greedy hands
Of any man who dare draws near.
Locked away for sacredness
In hopes to never be hurt again.

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Thud-ump
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Yet it is still pounding
Desperately
In want to be heard,
Felt, acknowledged.
A desire to be held as it once had been
In the long lost years of
A lovely past turned
Green.

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Yet it has been ignored for so long.
It has not called out like this
In so long.
Has it been weeks?
Months? Years?
It no longer remembers the
Restless butterflies that soar
Or the initial panic of the beginning.
It only remembers
Feeling, feeling, feeling.

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It misses feeling.
Misses stirring, dropping,
Dancing.
Oh, how it would dance
When it had been nurtured and loved.
How it wouldn’t dare crawl back
In the safety of its enclosure.
No, it had once been released
In reverence and worship.
Off its leash —
No cuffs, no chains,
No restraint in its capacity.

Thud-ump

Free;
Wind blowing through my hair,
Gentle fingertips caressing and tracing,
Eyes locked on the possibilities
Of eternity rarity,
Embracing this

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It’s hands are clutching at the prongs
Of the ribbed cage,
Anticipating of a new devotion;
A passion of wildness
That plucks at its strings
In harmony like a harp.
Screaming into the chest cavity,
Ricocheting,
“Listen to me!”
In its melodic yet cracked voice.

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This is the first time it has spoken to me
Since the incident.
First sign of life when I believed it
Benign;
Dead from lack of attention.
First time it has begged
With clenched fists against my chest,
Being devoured and drowned in agony
Of longing and desire
To be set free once again.
To embark on an adventure that could
Only have it crawling back
To where it is safe in its
Enclosure.

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But his hands are reaching out
And it reaches for him, too.
I cannot deny it any longer
Even though every other being
Is in protest.
The logic, the mind,
The sense of it all.
But it does not care for sensical actions.
Does not bother with
Half-hearted maybes or baby steps.
It wishes to
Jump, jump, jump.

Thud-ump

Don’t look at me with those doe eyes,
Don’t look within me
Knowing what is held behind
Bars of protection.
Daring to release what you want
But I am terrified to give
Will only create
Feeling, feeling, feeling.

Thud-ump

Oh, how she wishes for
Feeling.

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Author Bio

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