We break inside.
Dragged away from our underwater homes.
Exposed to heat to harden us,
Our inners being refuges for a translucent house.
A swallow among bats,
We fly like them.
Our courage ebbs away,
Our words transform to theirs.
Our thoughts become misty.
Our voices turn to whispers.
My soul belongs to puppet masters,
You tangle in the strings.
When the master calls, you answer.
Your actions become their own.
A bird trapped in an endless cage.
You glass house buried in the depths.
A drop of light in the distance.
It shatters as it hits the glass,
A million colours escaping.
I wonder which one we are.
Amelia Murray's Other Poems
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