Caged Birds Don’t Sing

Feeling your gentle touch wrap around my waist always took my breath away.The trickling fear blossomed inside my chest, it’s vines scratching at the walls threatening to break out. 
Feeling the whetted claws digging it’s intoxicating dread into my being, the tugging of the strings always pulled me closer. Your whispers drove me into a hypnotic trance, coiling around me like a python to its prey, it’s venom dripped from it’s teeth. Acid spilling onto the tattered floor, burning passion corroding through the moldy wood. Cloudy desperation filled my lungs, silent shadows pressing themselves against the wooden panels. Backwards love laced their cracked nails against my backside, tracing the faded scars that were once left behind. Faint humming escapes your fool’s gold teeth for your clamping down tighter, the despair dropped down. It’s clinging echoed through the shallow room. I didn’t shout, I didn’t cry, I didn’t run because I can’t see my mouth and no one could ever seem to hear me scream. Because caged birds don’t ever sing.