My freedom

I want freedom but it would never come.

Freedom from the mean thinking of society,
Freedom from the selfish nature of others,
Freedom from the cheap beliefs of creamy nobles,
Freedom from the stupid norms to revolt against them.

Freedom from the cage of their expectations,
Freedom from the judgments that poison the air,
Freedom from the weight of traditions, hollow and worn,
Freedom to be fragile, to be broken, and still be whole.

I want freedom but it would never come.

I don’t want my feelings to be stamped
for the sake of wrong decency.
I don't want my soul sanded down
to fit a comfortable shape,
Or my fire doused with their cold, conventional water.

So I will breathe my freedom in the quiet of my own mind,
And wear it like a secret armor, though it may never come.
Yet still, I want it.

This isn’t a plea, it’s a battle cry,
The freedom I crave I will seize, do or die.

I want freedom—
that I will bring it home.