Splitting Ribcages

There are rythms that echo through 

my rib cage, each bone curving as your

a note gets cut off. 

It is hard to hear, when 

other heartbeats play loudly like a siren

 

Its okay to love another, but

when their beat overrides your own,

you have to learn when to let go.

 

There are birds inside all of us, 

our opinions begging to be heard.

For someone to listen, even if it is 

just the empty sky on a rainy night.

 

When you learn to cut your ribs open,

and let the bird escape;

thats when you know you have made it.

When you can sacrifice part of yourself,

to flourish like flowers in the spring. 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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