True Freedom
She has nothing in her pocket
Expect for a half– used tube of lip-gloss
Red kisses restricted by chains
Restricted.
She has nothing in her pocket
So, walls continue to harbor the inner works
Of her dreams forgotten
Forgotten.
She owns a mind stricken with weeds
Weeds that grow, oh so thick
Controlling the fork that once nourished her soul
Now, taunting her with poison on its ends
Poison.
She owns a body that feels so wrong
A body with wrists too big
To wrap around with two fingers
Wrong.
She watches the clock tick
Each number closer to the end
But the end cannot be worse than this
End.
She watches the clock tick
Empty promises lurking between her lips
Routines and regulations guarding spontaneity
Like a shadow cast in the warmth of the sun
Shadow.
She wishes to be young and free
A time where pockets weren’t checked for rent
A time where food was powerless
A time where moments were her own
She wishes to be free
Because freedom was all she really wanted
Never was it about more money
Never was it about control
Never was it about schedules
She would rather have nothing in her pocket,
Then admit the pocket wasn’t her own.
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