Caged thoughts pt.1

Am I the bird?

You may have seen me. You may even know me. Yes, I might even be you. Througout the day I have a smile on my face. My laughter can be heard from the other side of the room. It's almost impossible to imagine that there could be a drop of sorrow in those sounds.
They usually compare my smile to the sun, bright. They usually compare my laughter to birds, outside the window or even in a cage, delightfully chirping. I am the one telling the jokes and lighting up the room with a fun and fuzzy vibe. But ufortunately, everything either stops momentarily or forever. You see,
when the day ends, usually the sun stops shining so bright, and the birds stop their beautiful singing. I am sure you know that moment, when it's slowly going to an end.
That's when the wind starts to howl chillingly, as if wanting to warn. That's when the night's ice cold fingers runs down your spine. The sun bidding its goodbye, the birds going into hiding from those ice cold hands. Maybe even the snow colored moon will come out to observe, silently? I wish I could hide like those birds, but from the voice of my thoughts. I am so sick of the sound of it. How can I possibly hide from it, just for a moment? Am I overreacting? Even the sun must be tired of the same view, every time he rises. Even the birds must be sick of the same song. They probably wouldn't compare my smile to the sun, if they knew..if they knew that the same teeth making that smile, also cleanches in an attempt to contain the agony every time the sun goes down. They probably wouldn't compare my laughter to the serene bird's song, if they knew that the same mouth also screams painfully. Everything is empty, my room, my bed and my arms. The loneliness. The same one who were sitting in a room full of people, making them laugh. Making them smile. Is now dying of loneliness. The same one. The same day. You may have seen me. You may even know me. Yes, I might even be you. If there was such thing as a mask for people to hide behind like birds, would the entire world just be smiles? And when the mask finally cracks..? Would we  be bleeding internally, from all that struggle to hold it in? The voice of my thoughts, the crushing loneliness, the warm tears rolling down, the chilling wind and the moon silently obeserving. It's a beautiful night in my cage. Destructible, but beautiful. How I wish my cage could talk, it has after all seen everything. Maybe even more than myself. It is indeed very dark, right now. I wonder what keeps me from diving into it? Could it be because of the voice telling me "dawn" can't happen unless it's "dark" first?
.
.
.
Oh.
I think
I heard a bird.
"Well, i guess yesterday only was one of those things that stops momentarily," whispers the voice as the sun's bright smile comes out of the dark.

Author's Note

Please ignore the bad syntax and the grammar errors, as long as you understand😊