there is i heard
always a way.
i went downstairs
into my well
deep down
to find my voice
which i lost
in the in-between
they take canaries
into the cellar,
a black cloth
on the cage
they use the radio
to make them sing
in their loneliness.
when they sing
they take them up
into their living room.
they do the same to
birds of prey
to get them used
to human voice
and tame to be
prisoners of illusion.
the skills of humans
make holiness rotten
and the heart gangrenous.
i have no wish to learn.
i do not wish to know.
i want to forget
who i was, am
and what will be.
i went down
sinking into the echo
from walls closing
around my voice
maybe
i shall stay
in the deep
inside
with my monsters
and dreams
and wounds
and hunger
and with a light
i feel warm
and clearer
underground
away from the
difficult ways
of scratching
with my nails
on the surface
between words
and humanity
where i lose touch
and must slide
into a mask
and steely thought
cutting myself.
i will stay in the
deep until i know
how to grow wings
made of silent light
only then
i will come up
unseen
to fly
meet me then
if you can see,
meet me in mid-air
or above the sea
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