A yellow bird trapped in a silver cage
Cages
Comfort is such a pretty prison.
It's strange to admit how often I find myself inside cages I never noticed being built.
They don't feel like traps at first.
They feel like care.
Like love.
Like comfort, even safety.
I rarely walk into them afraid.
I step in willingly.
That’s the trick.
The softest traps never look like traps at all.
This week, I noticed…
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