The Bird in the Bathroom Vent (a poem)

I'm trapped --
--like a bird in a bathroom vent.
Flip the switch and I'm done.

I've built my nest
now I must sit in it,
waiting
anxiously

....for that moment when it all ends.

Air pulled from my throat,
the pieces fall apart.

I make my presence known --
...speak up when I can,
to the outsiders --
the insiders?
Am I heard?

But wait, I was here first.

Flying away is done on vestment,
not the interest of those insiders and outsiders.

I am a bird
in a bathroom vent.
Lucky for me, it doesn't suck.