“I can see through your feathers, my poor little bird!” – Jude (Jude the Obscure)

She stood there

Dressed in her

Feathered finery

Delicate

Sweet

Seemingly

Happy…

.

But through the smiles

Pasted on

The tales of life

Had a sharp after-taste

She talked of her

Doings

And goings on

But I could tell

She wasn’t happy

She wasn’t going to be

Happy

.

She spoke of the sweet mirage

The nostalgic chains

That she knew were chains

.

They were subconsciously

Were pulling her

Into the abyss

Of what she had fled from

.

She had followed them

With a sort of beaten pride

Down the path

She knew

She wouldn’t be happy on

But she would try

Her best

To look

Happy

.

So she still stood there

Dressed in her

Feathered finery

Delicate

Sweet

Seemingly

Happy…

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