Are you kept then told like a secret?

You stay caged like your budgie, but everything that drowns me makes me wanna fly. So I make wings out of laces, clouds out of pavement, soaring out of running, and an owl out of a girl. More exhilarating than the feeling of wind through my plumage, the sensation of fingers through my hair. More arousing than the crunch of the rodent's bones in my talons, the warmth of quivering flesh gripped in my fist. Should I rather tear meat from skeleton with beak, or seek satisfaction of sinking into slick, swelling skin with teeth? Fitting, these attacks on you at night if my avian form is to be a nocturnal predator. But then why not skirt the forest? Do you enter these dark woods with the intention of seeking her out when night falls? Do you suspect that you are inescapably drawn to this shadowy setting, this bird of prey? Despite attempts to scamper away, do you find that you're kept in the dark?