i want to wake up

in my silk-spun uncertainty, i have woven myself a prison
to contain my thoughts, but everything echoes louder in a cocooned mind
the voiceless surrender of my vocal cords just leaves me vulnerable
as i writhe in the frothy throes of change, i compare my poisons:
the world's venomous ignorance or my own milkweed self-contempt
i swallow both and feel the gossamer wings—your foolish gift to me—dissolve
you ask why i always sabotage my own dreams, and i answer with a frantic smile—
panicked laughter stinging in the corners of my eyes
—if i were to emerge from my cage, still damp and tangled in the threads of metamorphosis
the world would reel at the sight of my strangely raw, wingless soul
and so would i, falling uselessly to a lonelier earth

(i want to wake up, already knowing how to fly)