cw: none

When you leave open a door,
eventually it will be used.
And when the air sang too sweet,
and all the canary’s feathers healed,
it found itself slipping
from one small world into
the bigger, beautifuller one.
It flew for the first time,
and the flight was hard,
but it felt so right.
Still, shelter came a-callin’;
the canary came back.
And in the room,
it no longer hated
the truth the window had revealed.