Cocoon

Looking backwards, I ask myself, “What was I, before I was caught?”

I wasn’t a butterfly. This cocoon isn’t going to magically transform me into something beautiful and liberated.

I watch through the gaps, others with wings, whose lives are vibrant and magnificent.

I visited them today, crawled out, and flapped around pretending to be one of them, briefly. I felt joy, and hope, and remembered myself, until it was time to return.

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