Some of us
were born with open skies in our bones—
born to run, to dance, to name the wind
as kin.
But they still build cages.
Not always of iron—
sometimes of doubt,
of rules wrapped in kindness,
of quiet expectations
meant to clip
without leaving a mark.
And we sit,
in boxes lined with “shoulds”
and ceilings made of “be gratefuls.”
They say it’s for our safety.
They say the world out there
bites.
But the world in here
bleeds.
Still, the caged ones sing.
Not because we’re content—
but because song
is the only thing
they haven’t figured out
how to silence.
Each note
is a crack in the bars,
a whisper to the wild,
a promise to the sky.
And though the cage may hold
our bodies still,
it cannot hold
the storm rising
inside our throats.
About the Creator
Zakir Ullah
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts7 days ago in Longevity
Comments (2)
Wow
This piece really makes you think about the invisible cages we're often trapped in. I've felt that sense of being boxed in by expectations. It makes you wonder how many of us are singing in these cages, longing for the freedom to truly spread our wings. What are some of the cages you've noticed in your own life? It's powerful how it shows that even when restricted, our spirits can't be fully tamed. The idea of song breaking through the bars is beautiful. Have you ever found an outlet like that to express the part of you that refuses to be caged?