(no subject)

[kaitesquill]

Quietly, I coil through ribs,
Wind through vertebrae.
Then sing down the spine,
Like wind in the attic.
I rattle the cage that holds me.
I wrestle the ties that bind.
I've been silent,
But the scream is building.
I'm welding a sword
Of words.
They will come.
And I'll return home.