Qumran

January 22, 2018
By Aidans_Thingy BRONZE, Gig Harbor, Washington
Aidans_Thingy BRONZE, Gig Harbor, Washington
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The mockingbird laughs at me and keeps my keys in its soft beige talons; singing its song. It seems that he’s always been there--across from me. I throw blankets and cloth over him, to seize what’s never really been mine, but my aim is always off.


The author's comments:

It's a metaphor for my depression


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