The return

It comes with a tun tun

With a patter that sounds like a tired old man

Comes with the dragging of chains

Like a ghost from past parties.

Comes with my fingers stretching my lips

And learning to smile even through the damage.

It comes with that I wonder if anyone hears the echo and frowns at so much effort.

I know I should set it free

Open the door of the cage and as a motherless pigeon teach it about free flight

But

They are mine

My reflections

My acquaintances

The color of my eyes

The scent of my blood

The taste of my feelings

It comes with the knowledge that this is a circus.

That is what I have created from what I have been taught.

It comes with the memory of an abandoned child.

It comes with being a malnourished mode, one that erases and eliminates all possibility of being human.

It comes as if it was never gone

TA.