Wings

Part 7: Awake

To enter the world, one must fight towards it.
"How deep can this thought go?" I wonder while I sit.
The dining room is empty. I stare straight ahead.
My dinner consists of one thing: round, small, and red.
I take a picture of some flowers. The candles blow out as I take the shot.
Then I'm casted by a shadow, piano music intervening with my thoughts.
I enter my room and watch as the doors close behind me,
questioning if what I'm living is all just a dream.
I notice the scratches that cover the entire door,
lighter burning the flower petals on the floor.
My vision is all loopy. I can't focus on a single thing.
But I see a bird through the window, flapping its wings.
I open the curtains only to come face to face with my reflection.
We've cried a lot, laughed a lot but it was just beautiful attention.
I walk to the door and through the hallway,
wondering if I'm dreaming or if I'm actually awake.
I walk towards the end where there's a picture of a bird.
A plea for help, hoping to be heard.
But I know that those photos left behind are all a loud cry.
People out there waiting for someone to free them so they could fly
and be taken to touch the sky.