Freedom Isn't Dead.

Everything just seems really fragile


The sophistication of a thought virus


That erupted in my soul


And all at once 
the words come


Like a rush of desperation 


Flooding the paper 
desperate for anything 


A sigh 


A relief 


Anguish.

Breath.

Paper.

Ink.

I panic in a fetal attempt to reason 
with left side logic 


But my creativity spills over


Creating scenes 
imagined


of tales 
that haven’t happened.


I try and hold on to a shred of sanity 


As the feeling takes over


It wakes me

From a forever deep slumber


Enlightened memories 


Stuffed underneath piles of 
Irrelevant nonsense

Flooding our minds 

Streaming from screens 

I’m trying to live! 


I'm living to try and find 


Freedom:

Rings through my head 


In a confused attempt 


To reason with the concept 


Free the panic 

Free the madness 

Free my power

Free the injustice

 
A subconscious 
Desire to succeed 


A feeling rooted in a community 
I was only ever taught to fear 


Yet I was only ever taught with love 


The feeling is so strong 
It hurts 


The complexity of the issues


It’s not that I’m jaded

It’s that I’m stranded 

On an island 


With a rowboat 


The sea readies to swallow me in 

And I can only see shallow deep 

Meanwhile the possibilities become

The steady click of a keyboard

Paper and Black Ink