Literature
What happened to your voice?
your thoughts are jackals, yet
their twilight howls sound like cries
in your head;
you have been finding yourself
& not-
while trying not to sound so
sad.
so, Dear Heart,
you can write.
yet,
you stopped wearing your words
on your wrist
& all that hair you chopped off
this day a year ago, refuses
to grow back.
you turn, try to decode
your encyclopedia of powerful
spines, tearing at the pages
you wrote them upon.
angry, You were so angry.
& now?
nothing but an untamed, wild thing
you leave collared & quiet
in a cage.