She’s run out of words that her mouth will allow her to say to you,
even though there all perched on the tip of her tongue, stuck,
like a bird chained to a branch on a tree.
Knowing that it could take flight,
and feel the breeze ruffle its feathers once more,
if not for the chain wrapped around it's fragile leg,
like a snake squeezing tight.
For every time it tries to fly,
the bird is dragged back to the tree,
and the chain grows tighter,
as its reality sinks in a little bit more,
just like how the lies get a easier for the girl.
To the point where the bird forgets that the branch is there at all,
because it has forgotten how to fly, what freedom tastes like.
Just like how the girl has forgotten what the truth feels like, tastes like,
for all her sweet words are now coated in lies.
She no longer feels the weight of the words stuck in her mouth,
just like how the bird cannot feel its chain anymore.
For she no longer longs to tell the truth,
and break free of these self-made chains that have bound her now for so long.
Just like how the bird no longer hungers for freedom and the wild,
because it has been a captive to the tree branch for so long
that it feels like it's domestication is natural, but it's not.
For if the bird is ever cut free,
would it go on living its life as if it's still tethered to the tree?
Or would it take flight and set itself free,
and remind itself what freedom tastes like?
Would the girl continue to let sugar-coated lies
spill from her now sour mouth?
Or be able to find the truth in herself,
if there is even any left.